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No. 

LIBRARY 

OF THE 

DEPARTMENT OF STATE. 




/ f> 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



LONDON : PEINTED BY TTILLIAX CLONES AND SONS, STAMEOED STEEET 
AND CHAELNG CEOSS. 




LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



BY 

Mrs. H. LLOYD EVANS. 



WITH A MAP OF THE COUNTRY. 



LONDON : 

CHAPMAN & HALL, 193, PICCADILLY. 

MDCCCLXVIII. 

[All rights reserved.] * 



MONS. AELES-DUFOUK, 

Of Lyons, 

IN WARM ADMIRATION OF HIS MANY 
PUBLIC AND PRIVATE VIRTUES, 
AND IN MEMORY OF MUCH PLEASURE AND PROFIT 
DERIVED FROM HIS SOCIETY " LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA, 

€i)t$ Stttle Volume is inscribe 

BY 

HIS GRATEFUL FRIEND, 

THE AUTHORESS. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER L 

ALGIERS. 

PAGE 

The approach — Oriental and European contrasts — Poses 
plastiques — Street life in the French quarter and 
native town — Advice to ladies .... 1 

CHAPTEE II. 

THE NEIGHBOURHOOD. 

Mustapha Superieur — Kambles round Algiers — The 
pirates' home — Don Quixote's captive — Geronimo, or 
the man with the mud mask — The summit of the 
Sahel Hills — Geological structure . . . .19 

CHAPTER III. 

A MOORISH WEDDING. 

The quasi-bridesmaids — An uninteresting bride — A 
Moorish beauty — Madame Eachel at work — Paint- 
ing and gilding — Native dancing — An ugly bride- 
groom — The playful matron — The unveiling . . 33 



viii 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER IV. 

THE EARTHQUAKE OF THE 2ND JANUARY. 

FAGS 

A night at Blidah— The first shock— The flight— On 
the " Place " — The killed and wounded — Alarming 
telegrams — After-shocks — A visit to the ruined 
villages 51 



CHAPTER V. 

NEW YEAR'S DAY IN THE COUNTRY. 

A visit to a French farm — Agricultural difficulties in 
the Mitidja— An Arab guest — -A Mussulman's view 
of English customs — The fashions in Africa — The 
tomb of the Christian — Its origin . . . .67 



CHAPTER VI. 

ACROSS THE ATLAS. 

An excited individual — The poor Bishop — Ruined 
homes — Arab incendiarism — Mineral springs — A 
smiling colony — An incident of the war of Abd 
el-Kader — Arab horses — A theatre in the heart of 
the Atlas 82 



CHAPTER VII. 

AN ARAB BANQUET IN THE CEDAR FOREST. 

A Spahi upon " woman " — The giants of the forest — 
The green parlour — The " Menu " of the banquet — 
Blidah again — Visit to an Arab acquaintance — The 
condition of Mohammedan women — The town and 
country mouse 105 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTEE VIII. 

A TRIP TO GRAND KABYLIA. 

PAGK 

The natives of Algeria — Difference of race — Valuable 
characteristics of the Kabyle — Decadence of the 
Arab — The Djurjura mountains — Kabyle gardens 
and villages — Kabyle industry and Kabyle dirt . 125 



CHAPTER IX. 

THE COLONY. 

A Mahonnais interior — A neat housewife — The cry 
of the colonists : — " Roads — Water — Good govern- 
ment" — The Emperors visit — Factitious centres — 
Why Frenchmen are not good colonists . . . 150 

CHAPTER X. 

CEREMONIES AND SACRIFICES. 

College Arabe —Fast of the Karaadan — A chamber of 
horrors — " Blood, blood !" — The old sorceress — A fast 
young Jewess — The Gorge of LaChiffa — Our gaieties 
— Farewell to Algiers 168 



CHAPTER XL 

COASTING ALONG. 

Adieux to Arab friends — An odd character — An old. 
pirate city — Legend of a modern Nebuchadnezzar — 
A very holy man—The earthquake at Djijelly . .191 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER XII. 

THE CITY OF THE AIR. 

PAGE 

Coustantine — Diligence difficulties — The Arab quarter 
— The Bey's palace — Turkish frescoes and orthodox 
art — The chasm — Search for Roman Cisterns . . 212 

CHAPTER XIII. 

AN OLD ROMAN TOWN. 

The " Akbar " of Constantine — A legend of Salah Bey 
— The Jews of Tougourt — Batna, the French camp — 
Laiubessa, the town of the 3rd Legion — French senti- 
ment — A luckless village — The Penitentiary — The 
soldier's couch ........ 23.1 

CHAPTER XIV. 

AN OASIS OF THE SAHARA. 

Desolation — An Arab tribe on the march — An old 
Roman in modern garb — First sight of the desert — 
160,000 palms— The fruit of the Sahara — A French 
hermit — " The land where it is always afternoon " . 249 

CHAPTER XV. 

DUE NORTH. 

Pleasures of African travel — Pigeon shooting — The 
evils of a "petit verre" — Army discipline — Lions 
and lion-hunters — The pockets of a fellow-traveller 
— Cork forests 274 



CONTENTS. 



xi 



CHAPTEE XVI. 

TEE CITY OF ST. AUGUSTINE. 

PAGE 

Prosperity at last — Bone and Hippo — A busy little 
town — The Great Talabot again — Road to Guelma — 
Aspect of the Province of Constantine — Distress in 
Algeria 295 



CHAPTEE XVII. 

LES BAINS MAUDTTS ! 

The spectres — An African Spa — A boiling waterfall — 
Fish in hot water — The arrested wedding — An Arab 
legend — Properties of the springs — Little Paul — 
Farewell to Algeria 312 



APPENDIX. 

Practical hints — Hotels — Villas — Climate — Clothing — 
Supplies — Church — Post — Carriages — Saddle-horses 
— Shooting — Amusements, &c. &c. — Excursions — 
Journey in the interior — Travelling expenses . .329 



Nvm tJ^"lii tiwuM-r d<- l'A Lgerj e '" hy L .P1KSSE ft 7th s 




7s . B. The distinction between mrt< 
been nble to itseeHaut a fiictst 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



CHAPTER I. 

ALGIERS. 

The approach — The arrival — Oriental and European con- 
trasts — Poses plastiqnes — Street life in the French quarter 
and native town — Advice to ladies. 

Yeaes ago, on a voyage to India, a triangular 
speck of white, like a fleck of sea-foam thrown up 
against the shore, was pointed out to me as Algiers. 
A few months back I again stood on the deck of 
a steamer, and saw the white speck growing larger 
and larger, till it took the form of a giant flight of 
broken marble steps, leading up to a vast green 
tableland. A little nearer, and the huge white 
staircase developed itself into walls and terraced 
roofs, while the plateau showed us the line of 

B 



2 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



rounded summits of the Sahel Hills, sloping down 
into hundreds of bidden valleys. A little closer 
still, inside the harbour, the old Moorish town 
retreated into the background, and long rows of 
modern quays and houses of the "Imperial" order 
of architecture reared their heads — the French 
element asserting itself. 

Here, at once, was an epitome of Algeria. The 
beautiful country itself — the native town — the 
French quarter in the foreground — suggesting, 
somewhat fancifully perhaps, the perpetual pro- 
blem of the assimilation of the two opposed 
races — the Oriental and the European — every- 
where sharply abutting on one another, and 
offering that strong contrast which is the first 
law of picturesqueness and the principal charm 
of Algiers. Already, on landing in the French 
quarter, one perceives, by the prominence of 
that very contrast, that a certain outward 
assimilation has begun. The "Place du Gou- 
vernement" does not look quite like a "place" in 
a town in France ; the numerous cafes have not 
the same aspect as those on the boulevards cf 
Paris or the Cannebiere of Marseilles. A large 
group of palms and a white-domed mosque orient- 



CONTRASTS. 



5 



alize the first, and in the second the gaily-clad 
Moor sits at the next table to the sombrely-clothed 
European, while little half-naked Arab "gamins" 
flit about among them selling matches. Along 
the chief streets, French in their architecture, 
Arab in their names, Bab-Azoun and Bab el-Oued, 
the flowing burnous of the Arab brushes against 
the short skirts of the elegant Parisian lady, or 
the gold-laced uniform of the smart young chas- 
seur d'Afrique. One finds, on the other hand, on 
ascending the steep narrow streets of the native 
town, that European influence has in its turn 
made its way amongst them : the French epicier's 
glazed window is close to the open stall of the 
Moor, the little frocked or jacketed European 
rolls about in the gutter with the small baggy- 
trousered Oriental ; and a constant stream of Mal- 
tese, Spanish, and French workpeople mingle 
with the native crowd. 

We were, perhaps, specially struck with the 
"intrusion" (to use the word in its original sense) 
of European into native life, having been accus- 
tomed, in Indian and other eastern towns, to see 
the two races keep much more to their own quarter. 
The " couleur locale " of course suffers ; but, then, 



4 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



the town of Algiers is not only African, it is also 
French : not a mere military camp, but a colonial 
city. This is what travellers are too apt to forget, 
and seem to think eastern life, which can be better 
observed in a dozen other places, the great attrac- 
tion of Algiers and Algeria generally; whereas, 
the peculiar interest of the country lies in its 
beino- the theatre of a constant strua'°;le between 
European civilisation and the once dominant, now 
degenerate, power of Mahommedanism — a struggle 
for moral, fully as much as physical ascendancy. 

Then again, as people see only the Oriental side 
of the picture, they insist on having the wdiole 
mise-en-scene of nature in keeping, and accord- 
ingly, reasoning from particulars to generals, think 
that as so much is different to what they see in 
Europe everything must be, forgetting that the 
trifling distance which separates the north of 
Africa from the extreme south of the opposite 
continent, or even the space of six degrees which 
lies between Marseilles and Algiers, does not place 
them in different zones. I have heard the 
strangest remarks fall from people's lips — some 
innocently asking where the cocoa-nut trees were, 
and expecting a tropical vegetation when it is an 



TWILIGHT ILL USIONS. 



5 



ascertained fact that nearly two-thirds of the 
species of the Algerian flora are found in Southern 
Europe. Again, I have heard others boldly assert, 
even against the evidence of their own eyes, that 
there was no twilight. I can only say, that even 
south of the Island of Ceylon I have never known 
twilight cease to exist, while in Algiers its dura- 
tion, though, of course, not what it is in England, 
is of some length, a considerable interval of exqui- 
site beauty separating the setting of the sun and 
the appearance of the stars. To be sure, it is 
altogether different from English twilight — it is 
the twilight of a cloudless sky — a luminous atmo- 
sphere. The dawn, too, whose existence poetical 
travellers equally deny, I have repeatedly watched 
from my window in Algiers, for upwards of an 
hour, passing through every gradation of tint and 
tone, from leaden grey to golden yellow. 

Most people now-a-days know what landing in a 
foreign seaport is like. How one's self and be- 
longings are fought over, first by boatmen, secondly 
by porters: how, finally, falling a prey to the 
most vociferous of the latter, one follows panting 
in the wake of some cherished box or bag, feeling 
an outcast from the respectable world, and glad to 



6 



LAST VaXTER IX ALGERIA. 



hide one's travel-stained form in an hotel. Such 
was our experience on landing at Algiers, with 
just a little dash of Oriental colouring added to the 
scene. Mingled with the Maltese and Spanish boat- 
men were bare-legged Arabs, while a sprinkling 
of turbaned Moors, in embroidered jackets and 
full trousers, stood lounging on the quay, among 
the French officials and soldiers. Our young com- 
panions, however, fresh to eastern garbs, eagerly 
seized on every Oriental detail. " Can that be a 
Bedouin Arab ?" asked one ; while, on my husband 
bidding the other " Follow the Moor," she stood 
still in naive delight, exclaiming, " He is speaking 
poetry." The Moor to her was still the being of 
imagination — the Othello of Shakespeare. 

Toiling up two flights of steps we found our- 
selves in the Place du Grouvernement, on the top 
of a line of raised quays, and on a level with the 
French quarter. Originally the town sloped down 
to the water's edge, but a large flat space has been 
obtained by building up vaults and warehouses, 
and erecting the houses over them. The space, 
however, is not very wide, and the town soon 
begins to rise up the side of the hill, which 
enables one from a very short distance off in 



UNDER THE PALMS. 



7 



the harbour to see the ground plan of the whole : 
in shape a triangle, its base resting on the sea, its 
apex terminating on the Kusbah, or palace citadel, 
the abode of the Deys. 

We spent the first night in the Hotel de la 
Eegence, in the " Place," looking oyer the Palm 
Grove, which, we all agreed, might be very 
charming in the Desert, but was quite the reverse 
in front of an hotel or caf^, where Frenchmen, 
drinking absinthe and smoking indifferent cigars 
till past midnight, rather spoilt the illusion. 
We were glad to migrate next day to the Hotel 
d'Orient, and enjoy the fresh breeze blowing in 
at our windows facing the sea. Such a glorious 
view, too, as we had, straight across it, over the 
harbour — a view which must ever live in our 
memories. The whole curve of the bay lay before 
us ; its shores, studded with white Moorish villas, 
rising to the right in the wooded slopes of Mus- 
tapha Superieur, then sinking into the long level 
line of the Mitidja plain, and sweeping round 
opposite us at the foot of the Atlas chain, w 7 hich 
filled nearly the whole of the background, the 
remainder being open sea. To this exquisite out- 
line a constantly new 7 aspect was imparted by the 



8 



LAST "WIXTFfi IN ALGERIA. 



varying colouring of the hour. I look back on it 
wistfully, as it showed at dawn — a silver sheet of 
water, hacked by purple mountain peaks, outlined 
against an orange-reel sky ; or, again, at sunset — 
a violet blue sea, framed in golden green shores, 
in crimson and vermilion hills, in opal-tinted 
mountains. Here my pen lingers lovingly, though, 
perchance, tediously garrulous as an old woman 
dwelling on the features of an absent child, equally 
incapable of conveying an idea of the original. 

Whenever we revisit Algiers we shall establish 
ourselves in the country, but visitors can scarcely 
do wrong in spending at least part of their first 
winter in the town. The proximity of the native 
quarter enables one to explore more frequently its 
picturesque recesses ; and everywhere in the streets 
of either quarter, the various costumes and pecu- 
liarities of the different races offer a constant 
study. Even without leaving the hotel, looking 
out from its shady court, the large doorway used 
to serve as a frame to a series of tableaux vivants, 
darkly outlined against the strong light. An old 
Jew, crouching along in a deprecating attitude, 
the very impersonification of Shylock. Delicious 
children, almost infants, clinging to the passers-by 



A LIVING KALEIDOSCOPE. 



9 



in supplicating attitudes — like Innocents asking 
mercy — in reality begging for sous. Slender boys, 
flinging themselves into every possible attitude of 
grace, in their eager gambling for centimes. A tall 
youth or two, with perfectly modelled form, leaning 
against the doorpost in the exact attitude of the 
Faun of the Vatican. All these pictures we 
enjoyed oftentimes from our breakfast table, in 
the salle-a-manger within the court. 

On stepping out into the streets, however, a 
much more varied scene met the eye. Few places 
can show such a mixture of costume and race as 
Algiers. At first the effect is somewhat bewilder- 
ing, but one learns after a little while to distin- 
guish the salient points of its many-coloured 
pageant — the more familiar figures of the ever- 
abounding French soldier of the line, the Zouave, 
the Maltese sailor, the Spaniard with velvet 
sombrero, the grisette in neat white cap, the 
Mahonnaise, with head-dress of coloured foulard, 
or, the more or less fashionably dressed male 
and female crowd, contrasting with the high- 
featured Arab of the Desert, his white burnous 
bound round his head with a camel's hair rope, 
the edge forming a kind of frill round his 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



face and making him look, as a Scotch lady 
remarked to me, " for all the world just like an 
auld Scotch wife in her mutch" (cap) ; the 
ragged, wiry little Kabyle, from the Djurjura 
mountains across the bay, with bare head and 
leather apron ; the Mozabite, in harlequin patch- 
work coat of many colours ; the Biskri, in striped 
woollen gandoura or shirt, his copper water-pot 
poised on one shoulder : these two latter from the 
far south. Then the Moor — the citizen — in em- 
broidered jacket, bright sash, full trousers and 
small turban ; the Jew, in somewhat similar garb, 
less brilliant in colour, and with a flat cloth cap 
or casque instead of a turban ; the Moorish woman, 
shuffling along, a shapeless bundle of white mus- 
lin ; the J ewess, in straight short skirt, fitting even 
tighter than that of the Parisian lady of the pre- 
sent day, a black satin kerchief entirely concealing 
her hair, a piece of white muslin or net passing 
under the jaw like a chin-stay and coming up 
over the back of the head, hanging net sleeves, 
and bare arms ; the gigantic negress in blue haik ; 
the shining black, thick-lipped negro, driving his 
tiny overladen donkey. These are some of the 
figures which people the modern streets of Algiers. 



PRO BONO PUBLICO. 



i r 



Here they are only passers-by : let us visit them 
in their own quarter. 

In spite of French innovation — of new high 
houses next door to the old irregular dwellings; 
in spite of almost daily demolition of open 
spaces intersecting the narrow lanes, fearfully 
suggestive of new buildings — the old tow r n of 
Algiers still retains on the whole its Oriental 
aspect, and much of that same irresistible fas- 
cination which pervades all eastern streets and 
bazaars, and tempts one to spend hours in wan- 
dering among them. It is like constantly looking 
on at a drama of daily life. For the Oriental 
seems to indemnify himself for the strict seclu- 
sion of his domestic existence by passing all the 
rest of it in public. From the early morning, 
when he sips his cup of coffee in the open cafe — 
undergoing meanwhile at the hands of the barber 
the operations of shaving the head, cleansing the 
ears, and other minutiae generally confined to the 
privacy of one's own chamber — until sunset, he 
passes the whole of his time in the street as it 
were, with the exception of an hour or two in the 
middle of the day when he retires to his home to 
eat and sleep. For he only leaves the cafe to 



12 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



take his place in his shop, a mere recess, suffi- 
ciently raised to bring him, while in a sitting 
posture, on a level with the passers-by. Here, 
after a preliminary pipe or two, he receives his 
friends, converses on the topics of the day, or 
dreamily stares straight before him, occasionally, 
and, as it were, parenthetically, attending to cus- 
tomers. Among us Northerners a shop is a mere 
place to buy and sell in ; as one goes south, say to 
Italy or Spain, it becomes the centre of gossiping, 
ay, and even of flirtation; but it is only in the 
East that one sees it thus serve in lieu of a recep- 
tion room or of a club. When news is slack, or 
he needs a little variety, our Oriental goes off in 
turn to pay his visits, shutting up his shop mean- 
while, regardless of possible customers. Trade, 
being conducted in this gentlemanlike and degage 
way, is not looked on as derogatory ; and some 
even keep shops chiefly for the sake of society 
and amusement, and as a place to meet their 
friends in. 

We used to stroll a good deal about this old 
native town, sometimes early in the morning, 
at the risk of being knocked over by the troops 
of rubbish -laden donkeys, the scavengers of 



STILL LIFE. 



13 



the place. The attendant " sweeper" generally 
rings a warning bell, but the donkeys are so 
bent on their work, and the streets so narrow, that 
one has scarcely time to take refuge in the nearest 
doorway. However, even at mid-day, one can 
wander here, fearless of the sun, which rarely 
penetrates the labyrinth of alleys. The steep 
streets, often mere staircases, are shady and even 
dark at times, the upper stories of the houses 
overhanging, supported on slanting props pro- 
jecting from the wall beneath, or meeting over- 
head in a narrow r long archway, formed by several 
houses joining. Following some of these streets, 
turning and twisting in every direction, one finds 
one's self far away from life and movement, shut in 
by blank white walls, scantily pierced with grated 
windows. All is still and silent ; only a muffled 
white figure glides noiselessly by, or a black 
demon-looking negro peeps out of a dark recess. 
Through a carved doorway, here and there one 
catches glimpses of the marble columns of a 
courtyard; but oftener the tiled entrance takes 
a baffling turn, hiding the inner mysteries of the 
dwelling from the eyes of the profane public. 
In the streets, however, where the shops are, the 



l 4 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



scene is animated enough ; buyers and passengers 
are pretty numerous, and there is a constant hum 
of voices. Unlike the grave Turk, the Moor of 
Algiers, perhaps in virtue of his mixed descent 
from almost every nation of Southern Europe, is 
an inveterate talker. You may almost recognise 
the Koulougli, or half-blood Turk (the offspring 
of the Turkish invader and the native woman of 
Algeria), by his dignified silence. 

Slowly progressing, one finds abundant interest 
in watching the workers at the different trades, 
which, as usual, often herd together, like by like, in 
the same street. Instead of the perfected article, 
alone displayed on European counters, here one 
sees the whole process of manufacture. The em- 
broiderer holding his work in a kind of wooden 
vice, and drawing the gold and silver thread or 
bright-coloured silk through and through ; the 
jeweller beating out the precious metal, or fixing 
the ruby and emerald in their setting ; the tailor 
cutting out the brilliant-coloured cloth jacket ; 
the whitesmith hammering out the pattern on 
fiat brass dishes. There, a little further on, in 
one of the numerous cafes, a man is pounding the 
coffee beans in a mortar — not grinding them as 



A CUP OF COFFEE. 



15 



with us — the prevalent and very just idea being 
that grinding destroys some of the aroma. A 
raised divan or shelf runs round the sides of the 
cafe, on which the guests sit, to whom the coffee 
is served as in Turkey, ready sweetened, with the 
grounds still in the cup ; these are allowed to fall 
to the bottom, and the beverage sipped carefully 
by degrees. Unaware of this fashion of drinking, 
the first time I was offered coffee in a Moorish 
house, my politeness made me violently stir up 
the whole, and eat it like pea-soup with the spoon. 
It was by no means a pleasant decoction. 

I have dwelt here on the Oriental side of the 
picture ; but, as I said before, it is often somewhat 
marred, in an artistic point of view, by French 
improvements — the green Persiennes of a great 
cafe billard scarcely harmonising with the nar- 
row gratings of the prison-like Moorish houses. 
The passing crowd, too, numbers nearly as 
many Europeans as "indigenes" — French sol- 
diers, Maltese bakers, the menagere, basket-laden 
returning from market, or some old Provencal 
hag, with foulard covering her scanty grey locks. 
But there seems a very fair u entente cordiale " 
between the two races, any serious quarrels one 



i6 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



hears of being invariably among the Europeans. 
The children, too, seem excellent friends; the 
small pale colonist playing merrily with some 
precocious little rascal of a Jew, a slender lan- 
guid-eyed Moorish lad looking on, as he takes 
charge of some pretty " curled darling " of three or 
four, with henna-stained auburn hair and orange 
hands and feet, dressed in a tiny but complete 
Moorish suit. 

Wandering thus about the town one comes across 
a good many curious and rather pretty things ; 
such as old jewelry, pottery, native ornaments, 
pistols, swords, daggers, pipes, etc. ; indeed, bric-a- 
brac from all parts of Europe is to be found in the 
Pirate city. The native articles, however, with 
the exception perhaps of rare and expensive arms, 
are generally very coarse in workmanship, more 
especially those of Kabyle manufacture, which, 
as some one aptly remarked, are "more curious 
than beautiful." The patterns of the Moorish, or 
rather the Arab jewelry (not the filigree tinsel of 
the Palais Eoyal, of course), are often good, and 
show a decided Eoman origin. I have seen modern 
fibulae and armlets made for Arab use almost 
exactlv resembling those in a collection of Eoman 



ORIENTAL ART. 



17 



antiquities. These, however, are better found at 
Constantine, where one sees them being actually 
made for some Arab from the south come in to 
sell his dates or hides. As for the embroidery 
in gold and silver thread, or in coloured silk, it did 
not, on^y in one or two exceptional cases, at all 
take my fancy, being as inferior in colour and 
design to that of Delhi or Scinde as the Algerian 
inlaid mother-of-pearl work is to that of Bombay, 
or the chased silver plate to that of Cutch. Still 
all are totally different from European objects of 
the same kind, and their Eastern-looking stamp 
gives them a certain attraction. They are in- 
teresting, too, at any rate as specimens ; but it is 
strange that Oriental art, which has attained so 
elaborate a finish in Asia, should in North Africa 
be so coarse in workmanship and colouring. 

Of course in making purchases, both in the 
Moorish town and in the large shops, of native 
articles, in the French quarter, bargaining is un- 
fortunately essential ; but I w r ould advise ladies on 
such occasions to be accompanied by a gentleman. 
Bargaining is apt everywhere to lead to familiarity, 
and a European lady cannot be too careful in her 
behaviour to a Mahommedan. His opinion of 

c 



iS 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



women, his standard of female propriety is so 
different from ours, that he cannot help misjudging 
her if she treats him as she would a European 
tradesman. If ladies only knew what the seem- 
ingly deferential Eastern, to whom they are talk- 
ing, thinks of them, they would never, aij I have 
often seen both English and French ladies, even 
in company with each other, but unattended by a 
gentleman, linger over their shopping or return 
again and again to look at some article for the 
purpose of getting it a few francs cheaper, or even 
for the more laudable one of practising Arabic, 
as I have heard some give as a reason. Far better 
for the latter object to get an introduction to a 
Moorish family, and spend an hour or two daily 
in conversing with the ladies. 



MOORISH VILLAS. 



19 



CHAPTEE II. 

THE NEIGHBOURHOOD. 

Mustapha Superieur — Eambles about Algiers — The pirates' 
home — Don Quixote's captive — Geronimo, or the man with 
the mud mask — The summit of the Sahel Hills — Geological 
structure. 

The town of Algiers faces the east, rising up the 
slopes of the Sahel range, a detached chain of 
hills beginning a few miles to the south-east, and 
following the line of the sea-coast some fifty miles 
westward. In almost every direction within a 
radius of about three miles from the city, are 
scattered numberless white Moorish-looking houses, 
the greater part having been the country resi- 
dences of the inhabitants before the Conquest. 
Many of these have been adapted to European 
use, and make very pretty, though not always 



20 



LAST WIXTLE IN ALGERIA. 



convenient, dwellings. The favourite haunt, how- 
ever, both of visitors and residents, is Mustapha 
Superieur, on the south of the city. After passing 
through an unfinished, rather mean, suburb the 
road winds in a series of zigzags up the slopes of 
the Sahel. On each side pretty white houses peep 
out from the midst of groves and gardens, gay with 
crimson Poinsetia, or the scarlet passion flower, 
sweet with the scent of orange blossom and roses ; 
while the broad-fringed leaves of the plaintain, the 
blue-green spears of the aloe, and the prickly 
battledores of the cactus, give quite an Oriental 
character to the vegetation, a palm-tree here and 
there completing the picture. Below, nearer the 
sea, lies Mustapha Inferieur, a less healthy and 
less beautiful situation ; lower still, just at the 
turn of the bay, one looks down on the plain of 
the " Champ de Manoeuvre/' The coast line now 
curves eastward, the hills following the same 
direction after falling a little back and leaving 
between them and the sea a strip of rich level 
ground, green with market gardens and clotted 
with the smaller houses of colonists, among which, 
at some little distance off, about three miles from 
the town itself, one distinguishes the palm and 



BEAUTIFUL SCENERY. 



21 



plane avenues of the Jardin d'Acclimatation, while 
at intervals a white cloud of smoke keeps moving 
on close to the sea; the railway to Blidah, the 
only finished section of the future line to Oran, 
running along this strip of land. 

Of the exquisite views at each turn of the Mus- 
tapha road it is impossible to give an idea : the bay 
ever presenting a fresh curve, the foreground ever 
changing; sometimes a precipice of red rock 
surmounted by bright green stone pines ; then a 
gentle slope clothed with olives, their foliage much 
darker and less grey than in Europe ; or again a 
wild bank of prickly pear, the polished though 
thorny surfaces of their leaves glistening in the 
sunshine like a network of silver ; or a hedge of 
the luxuriant Palma Christi, the castor-oil plant, 
with its star-shaped leaves and crimson tufts of 
flow r ers. It may seem almost invidious to draw 
comparisons, but of all the wintering places on 
the shores of the Mediterranean, from Naples 
round to Cadiz, none have struck us as so beauti- 
ful and varied in scenery as Algiers. The drives 
and rides, too, in the neighbourhood are not less 
lovely. Eoads, excellent as French military roads 
always are, lead in all directions within driving 



22 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



distance of the town ; but more numerous still are 
the delightful bowery lanes, where, but for the 
aloe and cactus, the unfamiliar foliage of the over- 
arching trees, or the strangeness of the wild 
flowers, the rider might almost fancy himself in 
Devonshire. As for the walks, I despair of being 
able to convey the faintest impression of them, and 
yet they are one of the chief features of Algiers. 

The worst inconvenience of living in the town 
was the distance one had to go through the streets 
at the beginning and end of each country walk. 
However, after a little inquiry we found we might 
perfectly well avail ourselves of the omnibuses, 
which run all day a few miles out on the principal 
roads, rejoicing in every appellation which the in- 
genuity of the owners can devise — " A mon idee — 
Lion du Desert — Frigate a Vapeur — Douceur des 
Dames," &c. Some instinctive feeling always led 
us, however, to avoid those freighted with Arabs, 
or with Moorish ladies on their Friday trip to the 
cemetery. We are very fair pedestrians and soon 
exhaust a neighbourhood, but the supply of rambles 
at Algiers lasted us during the whole of our four 
months' stay, and we know that we have left many 
a lovely spot unexplored. 



ALGERIAN COLOURING. 



23 



The variety of walks is due to the configuration 
of the Sahel Hills, which are intersected by count- 
less ravines traversed by innumerable Arab paths, 
winding now east, now west, with a glimpse here 
of the blue Mediterranean — there of the well-nigh 
as blue Mitidja Plain — and coming out on some 
height above, where a white-domed marabout (or 
saint's tomb) gleams in the sunshine against the 
dark foliage of a group of caroubas or pines. The 
curved direction of the hills, moreover, as they 
follow the sinuosities of the coast, by perpetually 
changing the point of sight, gives constant fresh 
combinations of mountain, sea, and plain. The 
colouring, too, of the scenery is not one of its least 
charms. It is something inexpressibly harmonious, 
and at the same time rich and warm in tone. No 
vivid contrasts as in Italy, the purple shadow cut- 
ting sharply against the golden light; but the 
whole blended softly as in a pastel drawing, every 
hue, after just touching the highest key of bril- 
liancy, dying away into the next ; every shadow 
delicately modulated through countless gradations 
of tone; the very sky itself of a softer blue — 
rather turquoise than sapphire. I cannot resist 
the temptation to carry my reader with me on one 



^4 



LAST WIS TEE IX ALGERIA, 



of our rambles, though I well know how feeble in 
outline and poor in colouring such a sketch cannot 
fail to be. 

Quitting Algiers by the Bab-el-Oued, its northern 
gate, we will direct our course along the sea-road 
to the village of St.-Eugene. Leaving behind its 
gardens and villas overhanging the sea, we turn 
off to the left up a narrow ravine thickly shaded 
with olive and lentisk. Here we come upon a 
small chapel embosomed in the wild luxuriance of 
a deserted garden, with its orange and fig-trees, 
white-blossomed daturas and masses of overgrown 
creepers. We are at the bottom of the " Vallee 
des Consuls," where, in the time of the Deys, the 
English and French consuls had their houses. 
From hence, mounting a projecting spur of the 
hill, we find ourselves on a level with Notre Dame 
d'Afrique, a large unfinished church, and looking 
over the town, the profile of its fortifications rising 
up to the Kusbah, and forming a good view for an 
artist, but on which we turn our back to follow a 
wide horsepath, winding Corniche-like round the 
head of successive ravines. Aspens and olives 
overshadow us and frame a series of glorious pictures 
of blue sea and rocky shore beneath. Every now 



THE SCHOOLMASTER'S FERULE. 



-5 



and then we pass white Moorish houses, with their 
terraced gardens and roofs ; masses of the crimson 
Bougainvillier curtain their walls; orange trees, 
golden with fruit, stand out against rows of dark 
cypresses. The path grows narrower, is cut into 
steps, rises steeply, then descends, and, leaving 
behind the haunts of men, dwindles into a mere 
track on the wild hill-side. Now and then we meet 
a poor, veiled native woman going down to the town 
to spend her few sous in some necessary article, 
or a half-clad Arab boy tending goats and sheep. 
The ground is rich with grass and flowers, but 
not a tree, and scarcely a shrub, appears. The 
fresh sea-breeze waves the beautiful feathery leaf 
of the ferula, with whose tough stalks old Eoman 
schoolmasters chastised their unruly pupils (the 
origin of the modern ferule), and wafts in our 
faces the strong rank odour of the tall lily-like 
asphodel, or the aromatic perfume of the wild 
lavender. We again dip down into a ravine along 
which flows a small stream escaped from an old 
ruined aqueduct, which every now and then crosses 
our path. We follow the course of this stream, 
turning our back on the sea, and after again 
climbing the hill-slope find ourselves on another 



26 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



and higher ridge, very near the most elevated point 
of the range. At our feet in the wild valley, 
which opens out at the head of the ravine we 
have just ascended, lies a large Moorish house. 
We can look down into its arched and pillared 
courtyard, with its ruined fountain, its orange- 
trees and cypresses. We trace its double wall 
enclosing first garden, and then field, speaking of 
days of violence, when every house was a fortress, 
and when this was doubtless the stronghold of 
some fierce Barbary pirate. No chivalrous being 
like Byron's impossible Corsair; no hero of ro- 
mance returning to his loved Medora, but a blood- 
thirsty, goldthirsty monster, with all the sensuality 
of the Oriental and the daring of the European. 
What deeds of violence, what wild orgies this re- 
mote valley must have witnessed! One pictures 
to oneself the vessel moored in one of the creeks 
at the bottom of the ravine; the cruel pirates, 
flushed with victory and pillage, hurrying up the 
lonely glen with their rich spoil, driving along 
their groaning captives — the delicately-nurtured 
high-born maiden — the proud youth of ancient 
lineage, to sigh and toil away the fairest years of 
their life- — slaves. 



CHRISTIAN SLAVES. 



27 



The number of Christians held in bondage by 
the dreaded Algerian pirates during their three 
centuries of lawless rule seems almost incredible. 
Thirty thousand are said to have been employed 
in constructing the pier which connected the 
island of Penon with the mainland, thus form- 
ing a harbour. Most of the Turkish fortifica- 
tions of the town are also their work. The 
cruelty with which they were treated, and the 
hardships they endured toiling under the scorch- 
ing African sun, even now excite one's horror at 
the bare thought, especially when one remem- 
bers that so late as 1816 a thousand wretched 
captives were discovered and liberated by Lord 
Exmouth. 

In that most beautiful episode of Don Quixote — 
" El Cautivo," — Cervantes gives a picture (drawn 
from personal experience) of the suffering of these 
Christian slaves, and the hopelessness of their 
escape; unless, as in the case of the hero, help 
miraculously sprang up in the very bosom of their 
oppressor's family. Some in desperation became 
renegades even more relentless in their cruelty 
than their quondam masters, while some, on the 
other hand, propagated the Christian faith, like 



28 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



the female slave who taught Zoraide in the story 
of " the Captive." 

History tells a dreadful tale of the fate of 
Geronirno, a wretched Moor who was converted 
to Christianity by some captive. Ali el-Euldje — 
the Uschale of Cervantes, a renegade, who was 
then pasha — gave him twenty-four hours to recant 
in, and upon his refusal caused him to be buried 
alive in the mud, which was being poured into 
moulds and dried into blocks ; and in one of these 
blocks he was built up into the wall of the Fort 
Bab-el-Oued, surnamed in consequence " the fort 
of twenty-four hours." On the 27th of December, 
1853, the French, in destroying the fort, discovered 
Geronimo's remains ; and thus two centuries and a 
half subsequently the words of the old historian 
were partly verified : " We expect the goodness of 
God to deliver Geronimo's body from this place, 
and unite it to those of many other martyrs." 
The block containing the body has, however, not 
been interred, but placed in the Museum. The 
figure lies face downwards with hands tied behind 
the back just as it was thrown in. The features 
have been perfectly preserved by the mask of 
clay, the lips being closely drawn together with 



A PANORAMA. 



29 



the effort of keeping the mouth shut to exclude 
the wet mud. 

But to return from this long digression. Having 
reached the extreme point of our walk we find 
ourselves on the hill of Bouzareah, the highest 
summit of the Sahel Bange. From hence the 
view is a perfect panorama, and I place it among 
the four or five finest views preserved in my 
memory — views which I value not so much for 
extent as for actual beauty. In this case, al- 
though, the horizon over the Mediterranean fades 
away into infinite space, in every other direction 
it is shut in by the Atlas Mountains, which for 
about a third of the distance, perhaps, are not 
more than fifteen miles off. The curved line of 
the chain stretches however far away, terminating 
towards the east in the long points of Cape 
Matifou, and others on the coast of Kabylia, and 
towards the west in the sharper headland of the 
Djebel Chenoua — a splendid diadem of mountain 
peaks encircling the Mitidja Plain, which lies in 
the middle distance streaked with alternate bars 
of sunshine and shadow, dotted with white farms 
and villages, while in the foreground is the billowy 
mass of the Sahel Hills on which we stand, almost 



3° 



LAST 'WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



every summit red with rocks or bare earth, every 
hollow green with vegetation. Prickly pears and 
aloes cover our foreground, and amid the dwarf 
palms of a neighbouring knoll peeps out an Arab 
village with its little domed mosque, and one or 
two marabouts. 

From this high point (some 1,400 feet above the 
level of the sea) one gains a fair idea of the 
physical geography of the neighbourhood ; the flat 
plain of the Mitidja, raised at the lowest part only 
150 feet above the sea, undefended at either extre- 
mity where the horns of its crescent rest on the 
Mediterranean, suggests vividly the hypothesis of 
the waves in bygone ages sweeping over it, along 
the foot of the Atlas, the Sahel mass lying as a 
group of islands off the coast, or rising perchance 
like bubbles from the ocean after some gigantic 
convulsion of nature. Nor is this a mere freak of 
fancy. On our way home we see many traces of 
former upheavals. Descending the carriage-road, 
leading from Bouzareah to Algiers, its tourniquets 
follow the strata of an immense circle of eruption, 
the formation of which to the north-west is blue 
limestone, to the south-east granite and gneiss 
(traversed by dykes of more modern granite) 



THE CRATER. 



3-1 



leaning against, but not overlapping each other, 
and showing thus that there have been two dis- 
tinct upheavals. In the centre of the valley is a 
detached knoll, of which there are two or three 
among the Sahel. It is a very perfect eruptive 
cone, or crater, of geometrical form. Continuing 
our road down the valley, at a short distance from 
the Bab-el-Oued gate, we fall into the same road 
by which we started, and re-enter the town. 

This was one of our longer walks, requiring 
about four hours, but I could name plenty of more 
moderate length. The moment you are outside 
the town you have but to take one of the count- 
less paths leading among the hills, and can in- 
dulge in as long or short a ramble as you like. 
In this way you come unexpectedly upon views 
and "bits" which you would otherwise never 
behold ; some of them as perfect compositions of 
form and colour as can be well imagined. In the 
morning, while the sun's rays are still slanting 
you get shadow also, that grand desideratum in a 
picture, and which is at other times a great want ' 
in Algerian and all southern landscapes. 

One view especially I carry in my memory, the 
full sublimity and beauty of which only a Turner 



32 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



could attempt to render. Standing on a ridge of 
the Sahel, far beneath lies the Bay of Algiers, from 
this particular point, thrown into a curve so 
exquisite and subtle as to be well-nigh inimitable 
by art, the value of which curve is enhanced by 
the long level of the Mitidja Plain immediately 
behind, furnishing the horizontal line of repose so 
indispensable to calm beauty of landscape ; while 
in the background the faintly indicated serrated 
summits of the Atlas chain preserve the whole 
picture from monotony. The curve of shore — the 
horizontal bar of plain — the scarcely more than 
suggested angles of the mountains form a combi- 
nation of contrasting yet harmonizing lines of 
infinite loveliness, wduch nature would ever paint 
anew for us in the fresh tints of morning, with a 
brush dipped in golden sunshine and soft filmy 
mist, and with a broad sweep of cool blue shadow 
over the foreground. 



THE SIGHTS OF ALGIERS. 



33 



CHAPTER III. 

A MOORISH WEDDING. 

The quasi-bridesmaids — Ad uninteresting bride — A Moorish 
beauty — Madame Rachel at work — Painting and gilding — 
Native dancing — An ugly bridegroom — The playful matron 
— The unveiling. 

Almost the first question one is asked after 
spending some little time at Algiers is, " Have 
you seen a Moorish wedding?" and as kind 
friends exert themselves, and one is nothing loath 
to behold so novel a sight, it is rare that an op- 
portunity does not offer, sooner or later, of " assist- 
ing" at one of these grand festivities, now fast 
dying out among an impoverished people. A 
French lady of our acquaintance, who had been 
narrowly on the watch on our account, announced 
at last that a marriage was to take place in the 

D 



34 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



family of the Mufti of the Grand Mosque, where 
birth and riches combined to promise something 
of the magnificence of olden times. Being a friend 
of the family she engaged to introduce us, " ladies 
only admitted ;" and, accordingly, at eight o'clock 
one evening, she came to escort us to the country- 
house at Mustapha, where the bride lived. 

Having driven up the hill for about half an 
hour, we alighted at the entrance of a narrow 
lane, and after stumbling along under the un- 
certain glimmer of the stars, across a field and 
through a garden, at length reached a large 
house, from whose few irregularly-scattered small 
windows bursts of light escaped, betraying the 
festivities of the jealously-guarded interior. The 
sounds of wild music, and the hum of voices fell 
on our ears as we entered the outer courtyard, 
and, passing along a narrow corridor, we emerged 
suddenly upon a scene of gorgeous magnificence, 
perfectly dazzling. A blaze of light, a mass of 
bright-coloured drapery, a glitter of gold, a flash 
of diamonds, bewildered the eye, and it was 
some moments before one began to distinguish 
the details of this splendid whole. We stood on 
the threshold of the inner court. Under the 



A GORGEOUS SCENE. 



35 



arches of its surrounding colonnade sat rows of 
Moorish ladies in their gala attire. Tunics of 
striped crimson satin and gold, of blue and silver 
brocade, of white flowered silk, contrasted with 
each other. Heavy gold bangles sparkled on 
every ankle, large brilliants on almost every 
finger ; tiaras of diamonds on every head. Here 
and there this brilliant piece of colouring was 
relieved by the black figures of several negresses, 
whose dark skins, like points of deep shadow, 
served to heighten the general effect. 

In the middle of the court were grouped round 
two enormous bouquets and a couple of large wax- 
lights, some twenty female musicians, forming two 
bands, playing alternately. Most of them had 
stuck huge bunches of roses or laurestinus upright 
in their heads, which nodded grotesquely over 
their old yellow faces. The conductors of these 
orchestras each wore a conical cap about a yard 
in height, at the back of the head, giving them 
the aspect of witches presiding over an incantation. 
The centre of the court opening as usual up to the 
very top of the house, was there roofed in for the 
nonce by an awning, from which hung a large 
chandelier, flinging its light on the satins and 



36 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



jewels of innumerable figures leaning over the 
four sides of an upper gallery. The twisted white 
marble columns, supporting its roof, stood out in 
relief against a background of light and shadow, 
while the glazed tiles, covering the spandrils of 
the arches, reflected in softer tones the rainbow- 
hues around. 

Having gazed our fill, we made our w 7 ay up- 
stairs, and wandered from room to room hung 
with damasks and cloth of gold, strewn with 
cushions of brocade and satin, and carpeted with 
the softest rugs of Turkey, each more magnificent 
than the former, and culminating in the bridal 
chamber, where the meeting of the young couple 
was to take place. After searching in vain for 
the bride, we learnt that she was in a room 
downstairs; so thither we hastened to pay our 
respects. She sat cross-legged upon a large bed, 
and crowding round her, as many as the bed would 
hold, sat a bevy of the loveliest little girls, from 
the ages of five to ten, her sisters and cousins, 
richly dressed in bright-coloured silks and satins, 
their tiny fingers loaded with rings, their long 
thick hair bound with diamond fillets, their necks 
hung with strings of pearls, and each wearing her 



A CHARMING GEO UP. 



37 



little cap of gold coins — the sign of maidenhood — 
perched coquettishly on one side of the head. 
The parents, even of the poorer classes, fasten 
gold coins on the caps of their baby-girls, in- 
creasing the number by degrees, as time and 
money permit, till the whole cap is covered, and 
becomes quite a small fortune. 

These charming little bridesmaids (so to speak) 
quite eclipsed the bride herself, a common-looking 
girl of nearly seventeen, with fine eyes and showy 
complexion, but coarse vulgar features, very dif- 
ferent in appearance from the high-bred coun- 
tenances we saw around. One lady especially 
attracted the admiration of our party. She was 
the bride's aunt ; and, although having a son 
nearly her niece's age, still retained her youthful 
look. Her face was perfectly regular in feature, 
but, perhaps, of rather too elongated an oval, like 
most Moorish women and youths. Her com- 
plexion was clear and pale, just a little improved 
by the universal practice of whitening the fore- 
head with a slight wash. Her large dark eyes, 
pencilled with antimony round the rims of the 
eyelids, looked gravely out from under her broad 
eyebrows — or rather eyebrow, as a connecting- 



38 



LAST WINTER IX ALGERIA. 



line of brown paint formed the two into one — 
after the fashion of her countrywomen, imparting 
a somewhat vacant expression to the countenance. 
The singular grace of her every movement, and 
the refined character of her beauty were enhanced 
by the rich elegance of her dress, devoid of all 
colour, but that of the gold flowering on her white 
silk vest. This vest, open in front, fitted tightly 
to the form, and was half-concealed by a soft white 
merino shawl, embroidered in white silk, thrown 
over one shoulder. Full, white muslin trousers 
covered the lower part of the body, while a silvery 
gauze drapery, with two broad bands of gold lace, 
was wound diagonally round the hips. On her 
head was an " ussaba," or kind of tiara of diamonds, 
the points of which were crescents and flowers, 
trembling and flashing upon artfully-hidden wire 
stems. On every finger and on each thumb was 
a ring formed of a single brilliant, of immense 
size and finest water (one set in red enamel was 
proudly exhibited as the gift of the Empress), all 
shining doubly bright upon hands dyed the deepest 
black, for that very purpose. Many strings of pearls 
hung round her neck, and from a gold chain was 
suspended a pretty little French watch. This 



ORIENTAL TASTE IN COLOURS. 



39 



curious mixture of refined elegance and barbaric 
splendour produced, strange to say, a singularly 
fascinating whole. It was in vain one's good 
taste exclaimed against the blackened hands or 
the prolonged eyebrow. Like a well-placed dis- 
cord in music, they seemed to redeem the har- 
mony from insipidity. The whole effect (taken 
of course amidst its surroundings) was the most 
charming thing possible. 

The dress of all the ladies present differed only 
in colour or material from that I have just de- 
scribed. It was generally distinguished by that 
taste for colouring which Orientals possess ; and I 
noticed that none had more than one deep, full, 
predominating hue, the rest being pale, if com- 
plementary in colour. There was contrast of tone 
as well as tint, so that even in opposition harmony 
w r as secured. 

We were told afterwards that a great many of 
the jewels were hired, on occasions of ceremony 
like this, from Jewish diamond merchants ; but 
still a good proportion belonged to the wearers, 
who, having neither the expense nor enjoyment 
of carriages and horses, opera-boxes or yearly 
foreign trips, like their European sisters, coax 



4 o 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



their husbands to spend their superfluity in jewels. 
Even a Moor of a poorer class told me his wife was 
alw 7 ays teasing him for jewelry. "That is all 
women care for," said he. What else has a Mo- 
hammedan woman to care for ? Kept in strict 
seclusion, with no knowledge of the outer world, 
even from books;* with no companionship, but 
that of other women like herself, what wonder that 
she becomes well-nigh the soulless being which the 
Prophet represents her ? Material life is all that re- 
mains to her, household cares are her only serious 
concern ; she prepares the kouskous for the daily 
meal with her own hands, she weaves the burnous 
and haik, or embroiders the vest ; these duties per- 
formed, her occupations are eating and sleeping, her 
recreations playing with her children, and dressing 
in fine clothes ; her ambition, jewelry. Of course 
a fete of any kind is joyfully welcomed, as reliev- 
ing the monotony of an existence only varied by 
an occasional visit to the cemetery, and as afford- 

* The education of women is regarded with so little favour 
by the Mahommedans of Algeria that since the admission of 
native members into the Provincial Councils of the country, 
the benevolent attempt of Madame Luce to teach the girls, 
working in her embroidery establishment, to read has been 
suspended. 



A STRANGE LIFE. 



4* 



ing an opportunity for the display of her jewels 
and dresses. 

Supper was now served to the band, and to such 
of the ladies as were disposed to eat; but the 
greater number having devoured sweetmeats and 
sipped coffee all day, had disappeared by de- 
grees; and as we wandered about through the 
rooms, we kept stumbling over their prostrate 
figures, lying about in all directions, wrapped in a 
slumber as profound as that of the court of the 
Sleeping Beauty of the wood, and awaiting a similar 
rousing signal, . the coming of the bridegroom. 
Already for four or five days, we were told, the 
present party of ladies had been staying in the 
house, and would remain three or four more. Nu- 
merous as they were, accommodation, as we have 
seen, was not difficult, as they slept where and 
when they pleased, sometimes by day, sometimes 
by night, occasionally changing their toilettes as 
the fancy seized them, and leading for eight days 
the strangest kind of irregular life, oblivious of 
time, or the changes of morning and evening, 
and given up to the enjoyment of the hour. 
Meanwhile, in this species of female saturnalia, 
they intoxicate themselves with mere pleasure 



4 2 



LAST WINTER TN ALGERIA. 



and amusement — feasting the palate with every 
cloying delicacy, the eye with bright colours 
and wild dancing, sometimes even themselves 
joining in the latter pastime, till, faint with mad 
exertion and excitement, they fall to the ground 
and sleep where they lie. 

The great object of interest was now the bride's 
toilette, which we heard was about to commence, 
and, accordingly, hurried to the spot to lose none 
of its curious details. Everyone crowded round 
the bed, on which she still sat amid her juvenile 
companions, who were all in fits of laughter at the 
jokes and grimaces of a young negress, the wag of 
the party ; whose large eyes, set wide apart, rolled 
about in the drollest manner, as she kept pouring 
out what was evidently a highly amusing tale. This 
unseemly mirth was however soon quenched by the 
arrival of a stern-looking old woman, who, with an 
air of great importance, prepared for the serious 
operation of the evening. Having climbed up on 
the bed, she seated herself at the head, placing 
the bride opposite to her, and depositing on her 
left side a box like a large tea-chest inlaid with 
mother-of-pearl, which proved to be a Moorish 
dressing-case, a receptacle for mysterious wares, 



THE BRIDAL TOILETTE. 



43 



like those of Madame Each el. From it, with 
great deliberation, she extracted various bottles 
and saucers, and having carefully washed the 
bride's face with water, proceeded to whiten it all 
over with a milky-looking preparation, and after 
touching up the cheeks with rouge, bound an 
amulet round the head ; then, with a fine camel- 
hair pencil, she passed a line of liquid glue over 
the eyebrows, and taking from a folded paper a 
strip of gold-leaf, fixed it all across them both, 
forming one long gilt bar. Every now and then 
the old lady threw herself back, and regarded her 
handiwork as an artist does his picture, putting 
her head on one side and shutting one eye with a 
critical air. Murmurs of admiration broke con- 
tinually from the lips of the youthful spectators, 
each doubtless longing for the day when they 
would be similarly decorated. The mother and 
aunt stood by solemnly watching, and presently 
the latter spoke in an impressive whisper to the 
" dresser," who responding by a sagacious nod, pro- 
ceeded to give a few finishing touches to the poor 
lay figure before her, by fastening two or three tiny 
gold spangles on the forehead, her grim face re- 
laxing into a smile of well-satisfied pride. Alto- 



44 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



gether, nothing could be stranger than the scene. 
The group of eager children's heads pressed closely 
together; the grave countenances of the elder 
relations; the old woman's parchment visage, 
intently gazing on her work ; the wearied face of 
the poor bride, with half-closed eyes and bowed 
neck ; all lighted up by the uncertain flash of a 
large wax taper held by one of the girls, formed 
as curious a study of physiognomy as one could 
well find. 

Meanwhile, the wild, monotonous music in the 
court never ceased; and having seen the mys- 
teries of the bridal toilette, we left it to be com- 
pleted, and went out to watch the dancing. Two 
hideous, middle-aged, fat women, one of them a 
negress, were twisting and wriggling their bodies 
about like Nautch girls, but with less grace ; it 
was an exaggerated edition of the dancing of the 
Spanish gipsies, the motion of the hips being even 
more violent. Every now and then, after some 
more than usually ugly contortion, the negress 
would grin from ear to ear, utter a snort of satis- 
faction, then stoop down and laugh triumphantly 
in the face of one or other of the bystanders, who 
applauded with all their might. 



THE BRIDEGROOM. 



45 



Presently shouts were heard outside — "The 
bridegroom ! the bridegroom ! " The dancing 
ceased; the ladies rushed to hide themselves in 
the inner rooms, leaving only the musicians and 
dancers, some negresses, and ourselves. There 
was a shuffling of many feet, then a breathless 
silence. At last steps were heard in the passage, 
the curtain of the outer door was lifted, and 
showed a short, squat youth of about eighteen, 
clad in a large white woollen burnous, much too 
long for him, as it hung down to his very feet, 
looking like a flannel dressing-gown. His flat, 
negro-featured face, was yellow and sodden, and 
without a single hair; his enormous ears pro- 
jected like handles, and seemed to exist for the 
purpose of supporting the red tarboosh, or cap, 
which must otherwise certainly have slipped off 
his cleanly shaven, polished head. Altogether, he 
was as plain a specimen of humanity as possible. 
His gaze was rivetted to the ground, and he moved 
with an embarrassed, shamefaced air, no doubt 
aggravated by the consciousness of the number of 
female eyes taking note of his appearance from 
behind the curtained doorways. 

As he stepped over the threshold, shouts of 



4 6 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



Ll'll-ll ! (a sharp sustained cry by which Moorish 
women express alike intense rejoicing or mourn- 
ing) burst from the musicians, was taken up by 
the ladies inside, and soon rung from every corner 
of the house. Amid these wild, shrill greetings 
the bridegroom mounted the stairs, accompanied 
by his father, mother, grandmother, and pretty, 
young married sister, and entered the bridal 
chamber, where the place of honour on a low 
divan was allotted to him. His sister, climbing 
up on a ledge behind him, sat down upon her 
crossed legs and folded her arms, looking, in all 
the glitter of gold embroidery, crimson brocade, 
and diamond tiara, like some Hindoo idol in a 
shrine. 

The curtain of the room was now let down, but 
as it did not fit the door we could see through the 
chinks ; and presently an old lady, observing our 
curiosity, good-naturedly invited us to enter, which 
we gladly did, in order to secure good places to 
see the meeting of the young couple. The poor 
bridegroom sat, the very picture of patient en- 
durance, sometimes wiping the moisture from his 
brow, then again drawing his burnous wearily 
round him. His sister every now and then kept 



A FIDGETTY GUEST. 



47 



stooping forwards, shaking with laughter, and 
whispering something in his ear ; but he received 
her jokes with a melancholy gravity, and never 
even raised his eyes from the ground. This did 
not seem to suit the lively young matron : down 
she jumped from her perch, and attacked her 
grandmother, a withered dame, who was dressed, like 
all aged Moorish ladies, in simple cotton garments, 
without ornaments of any kind. The two chuckled 
together till the younger, again wanting change, 
sprung up on the ledge, and tried afresh to make 
some impression on her stolid brother's gravity — 
but in vain. And so she continued alternately 
leaping up and down, grinning from ear to ear, 
chattering and showing her white teeth till one 
was irresistibly reminded of the little dressed-up 
monkey of an organ-grinder. A whole hour 
passed thus ; it was long past midnight ; the 
heat and closeness was stifling ; the suspense most 
tedious; and we ceased to wonder at the little 
creature's fidgetiness, and grew ourselves well- 
nigh as wearied as the poor bridegroom. 

At last a stir was heard in the court ; a 
rustling of silk and stiff brocade, a sound of 
voices and suppressed giggles, and as the bride 



4S 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



was ushered into the room the shrill cries of 
Ll-ll-ll were repeated as loud as before. Behind 
her crowded the children, and all the ladies who 
could push in, each closely veiled from the gaze 
of the two males present. x\s the bridegroom 
advanced to meet his bride, the rose-coloured 
veil which covered her face was thrown back, 
and he was allowed, for the first time, to gaze 
upon her charms ; a permission of which he 
was a great deal too bashful to avail himself in 
this case ; but with downcast eyes led her to the 
divan, and seating himself beside her, held out his 
hand, palm uppermost, into which one of the attend- 
ants poured some water. This the bride drank, thus 
signifying her willingness to accept him as a hus- 
band. Now came the critical moment. Water was 
poured into her hand ; if he refused to drink, it was 
a sign she was rejected, and the marriage would 
be considered broken off. W e all press forward 
anxiously ; he stoops and drinks, and for the third 
time the cries of Ll-ll-ll resound through the house, 
while rose-water is sprinkled over the company. 

All was now confusion ; everyone outside tried 
to get into the small room to look at the young 
couple, while the old matrons around them endea- 



WELL GOT UP. 



49 



voured to push us all out. We sought to pacify 
them by admiring the bridal toilette, pointing 
to her diamond crown, and repeating, "buono, 
buono," a word of lingua-franca very useful on all 
occasions; and for one moment we managed to 
squeeze up close to the divan. The bride really 
looked almost handsome, thanks to the embellish- 
ments lavished upon her. I could not have be- 
lieved that the coarse, blowzy girl of five hours 
back could have developed into anything half so 
presentable ; and if her appearance was somewhat 
barbaric in its overloaded ornaments, it was only 
in keeping with the whole scene. Her countenance 
was heavy as ever, but it seemed now rather the 
heaviness of fatigue and exhaustion. Her large 
black eyes drooped with a becoming languor 
under her broad gold eyebrow; and there was 
something almost dignified in the calm immobility 
of her face — an immobility due chiefly, however, 
to its stiffened surface of painting and gilding. 
All this time the bridegroom had never once 
raised his eyes, but, just as we were turning 
away, we perceived a slight motion about the 
corner of his left eyelid, and detected him in a 
surreptitious but momentary glance at his com- 



50 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



panion. We heard afterwards, they had been 
playfellows as children, and only during the last 
two or three years had ceased to meet. We could 
not help hoping neither had formed an ideal pic- 
ture of the other. 

Eight glad were we to get home ; it was nearly 
two o'clock, and for the greater part of six 
hours we had been on our feet in more or less 
uncomfortable attitudes of curiosity. The heat, 
the evil odours, scarcely drowned by the heavy 
scent of mingled rose and musk, the noise, 
the glare of colour and light, was an exhausting 
"ensemble" that we did not recover all next 
day. The spectacle, however, was well worth 
seeing, once in a lifetime — and once only. We 
felt deeply grateful to our self-sacrificing friend, 
w T ho had undergone it all a second time on our 
behalf. 



A PEACEFUL MORNING, 



5i 



CHAPTER TV. 

THE EARTHQUAKE OF THE 2ND JANUARY.* 

A night at Blidah— The first shock— The flight— On the 
"Place" — The killed and wounded — Alarming telegrams 
— After-shocks- — A visit to the mined villages. 

" Sweet day, so calm, so fair, so bright," might 
well have been written of the lovely New Year's 
morning of 1867 which rose over Algiers. It was 
to be spent by us in the country, at the house of 
a French gentleman who had recently acquired 
a large property in the neighbourhood ; and, as it 
was too far distant from Algiers to allow of our 
coming back the same day, our party, consisting of 
a friend and her two daughters, my husband and 
self, were only to return half-way, and sleep on 
the road, taking the train home again the next 
morning. 

* Partly reprinted from the Spectator, by kind permission 
of the Editor. 



52 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA, 



It was quite early, still dawn, when we started 
from Algiers ; the orange sky behind the Atlas 
was just deepening into crimson as we took our 
places in the railway carriage, were whirled along 
the sharp turn of the bay, and thus brought round 
in full view of the town — (at least, of what we 
knew to be such, but w 7 hich, during those few 
rapid minutes, looked more like a Fata Morgana 
floating in the air). A soft mist, veiling its base, 
seemed to support as on a cloud the walls and 
houses of the old Moorish town, suffused w T ith a 
delicate rosy tint, melting into the deeper pink 
and golden green of the adjacent hills. All 
seemed far away and phantom-like against the 
trenchant line of purple sea, sweeping round the 
curve of the shore, and breaking gently at our 
feet against the low railway embankment, whose 
ferruginous earth glowed a fiery crimson. 

Soon the sun rose, and soon our course turned 
away from the coast in a south-westerly direction, 
along the Mitidja Plain, nearly parallel with the 
Little Atlas. Tracts of cultivation, occasional 
whitewashed farm-houses, and several villages, 
each with its railway station, betokened a very fair 
number of colonists. In about two hours, having 



THE SHOCK. 



53 



gradually approached the foot of the Atlas, we 
reached Blidah, a place so indelibly impressed on 
our memory by the terrible events of the follow- 
ing day, that I must pass on to them at once, and 
return to speak in another chapter of lighter 
matters — of the charming New Years Day spent 
with pleasant friends — of the peaceful hours of 
perfect enjoyment, contrasting so vividly with 
the horrors of tbe morrow. 

After our day's excursion, we returned in the 
evening to the little hotel at Blidah, supped, 
chatted over our adventures, and retired to bed. 

At 7*15 on the morning of the 2nd I was roused 
from sleep by a sound as of some one beating the 
floor above and the walls on every side. It in- 
creased rapidly in violence, till the whole house 
shook and rocked, and seemed giving way be- 
neath our feet. I saw the wall in the corner of 
the room split and open, and immediately after- 
wards masses of plaster fell from the ceiling and 
walls, bringing clouds of dust and a darkness as 
of night. I lay cowering in bed from some unac- 
countable impulse, which made me fancy myself 
safer there, as I heard the crashing of the falling 
wood and plaster, and the awful sound of the walls 



54 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



being cracked and rent apart. An age of ever- 
increasing horror seemed to pass (in reality, I 
believe, scarcely thirty seconds), till I heard my 
husband's voice calling me to fly. I rushed blindly 
to the door and out into the corridor, guided by 
the most piercing shrieks. In one instant we 
thought of our friends on the floor above, where 
the danger, of course, was so much greater. Thank 
God! they soon stood in safety beside us. All 
the inmates of the hotel were running wildly 
about, some tearing downstairs out into the street. 
The women's screams and cries were what first 
made me feel actually afraid, and caused me to 
realize that all these terrible sights and sounds 
meant danger to life and limb. The shock was 
so sudden, so wholly without preparation, that the 
mind was absorbed only in the consciousness of 
the Unknown, in the new and awful experience. 
So little, indeed, did any of us know what our 
peril was, that we remained in the house more 
than a quarter of an hour after the first shock, 
the landlord assuring us all was over. As we had 
literally nothing on but our night-dresses, we 
at length went back to our rooms and hastily 
gathered up some clothing, which we put on how 



A NARROW ESCAPE, 



55 



and where we could, in the open passage, heedless 
of the people running to and fro, collecting their 
valuables. It was no time for conventionalities. 
Our friends, on venturing up the tottering stair- 
case, found their rooms choked with plaster and 
rubbish, the walls separated from the shaking 
floor, which hardly seemed firm enough to bear 
their weight, the whole a complete scene of ruin, 
while on the pillow of one of them lay a large 
mass of wood, almost too heavy to lift. She had 
happily sprung from her bed instantaneously at 
the first alarm. 

A fresh though slighter shock now drove us 
from the house, where we had already tarried 
foolishly long, and the cry was, " To the 6 Place !' " 
Thither we rushed in the pouring rain. It was 
already crowded with people from all parts of the 
town in the most pitiable condition. Some half- 
dressed; some crying bitterly; some wringing 
their hands, lamenting the loss of their little all, 
their stock-in-trade ruined and shattered, their 
houses rent from top to bottom, in some cases 
level with the earth. Numbers of poor Jewesses 
sat crouching on the wet ground, holding their 
sobbing children, rocking themselves to and fro 



36 



LAST WIXTER IN ALGERIA. 



and moaning loudly, while above all rose ever 
and anon the wailing sound of the cavalry 
trumpets and the rolling of the drum, calling on 
the soldiers to quit their tottering barracks. A 
sick French lady, apparently dying, was carried 
out in her bed on to the iC Place." She lay white 
and motionless, while the most curious and least 
scrupulous crowded round her. The Arabs alone 
stalked about unmoved, shrugging their shoulders, 
and muttering, " It is destiny !" 

As no more shocks occurred and the rain still 
continued, we at length took shelter under the 
colonnade of a one-storeyed house ; but soon a 
low rumbling was heard, as of distant thunder, and 
everyone precipitated themselves into the midst 
of the "Place." It w r as a fearful scene. People 
came tearing down the neighbouring streets, 
women and children ran aimlessly hither and 
thither, shrieking wildly, men even uttering hoarse 
sounds of terror, w T hile the ground heaved and 
trembled beneath our feet, and we gazed at the 
surrounding houses in expectant horror ; it seemed 
as if they must fall like a pack of cards. The 
shock, however, was slight, but still, dreading 
another, all now remained in the open " Place," as 



SUSPENSE. 



57 



their only chance of safety, and the drum beat 
announcing the Maire's command that everyone 
should take refuge there and quit their houses, 
whither some of the boldest had returned to save 
their property. Another and severer shock fol- 
lowed in about half an hour. The young trees 
rocked and swayed, and the flagstaff near waved 
backwards and forwards. Several houses fell 
completely to the ground. 

It was a time of awful expectation, rendered 
even more dreadful by the low, terrified snatches 
of conversation on all sides. One man told of the 
earthquake at Blidah in 1825, when eight thou- 
sand perished and the whole town was destroyed ; 
another said, " We have not yet had the worst 
shock;" while a third confidently affirmed that 
the great shock of all would be at half-past ten — 
groundless prophecies, but still alarming enough 
to hearers nervous from the terror and excitement 
of the last three hours. And yet amid it all it 
was curious to notice how soon the mind grew 
accustomed to danger — how we calmly calculated 
whether we should be out of reach of the houses 
if they fell forwards into the " Place ;" how we 
carefully chose our position so as to be clear of 



5§ 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



the piece of water in the centre, in case of a sudden 
rush from the crowd; how we finally procured 
chairs to rest our wearied frames, as, keeping 
closely together, our little band waited and 
watched for the worst. Overhead, like a pall, 
hung the leaden sky. Bain still fell heavily, as 
it had not ceased to do since midnight. Rain, 
long wished for over the length and breadth of a 
hirsty land, came at last, like many an anxiously 
desired blessing, hand-in-hand with misfortune. 

As nothing fresh occurred, we finally deter- 
mined to make our way down to the railroad, so 
as to be ready for the 12*30 train, that from 
Algiers having arrived safely, and the line being 
declared uninjured. The guard afterwards told us 
he saw the rails some distance on in front heave 
up and down like an immense wave. In fear and 
trembling we passed under the tottering walls of 
the houses on our path, not daring to run, lest we 
should create a panic among the poor terror- 
stricken beings in the "Place." Arrived at the 
station, w T e sat in one of the carriages, awaiting 
departure, and after experiencing one more slight 
shock, started for Algiers, which we reached in 
about a couple of hours, to find no damage suffered 



AFTERSHOCKS. 



59 



there, although considerable alarm. The hotel, 
our rooms, all looked as on that peaceful New 
Year's morning, not thirty-six hours ago, when we 
set off in high spirits, full of pleasant anticipa- 
tions. The events of the day seemed a hideous 
dream ; but it was a dream not to be lightly 
shaken off. Again and again, during the ensuing 
week, that mighty trembling made itself felt, 
happily only in a slight degree ; and every night 
we lay down with all prepared for flight at our 
bedside, sometimes even sleeping half-dressed, to be 
ready at the slightest warning. Almost everyone 
in the hotel since confessed to similar precautions. 

In other places the after-shocks were more 
frequent, some forty or fifty having been counted, 
but no new damage of any consequence seems to 
have occurred. People began to take heart, de- 
tachments of soldiers were despatched to assist 
the colonists in rebuilding their houses, subscrip- 
tions raised to allay the unavoidable misery of 
many. Blidah, although rendered uninhabitable, 
was spared the greater disasters which befell 
Mouzaiaville, El-Affroun, and two other villages, 
which appear to have been immediately over the 
centre of disturbance. They were literally levelled 



6o 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



to the ground, and scarcely a family among their in- 
habitants but had some member killed or wounded 
beneath the ruins. Had the earthquake happened 
in the night the casualties must have been far 
greater, whereas most were able to rush from the 
falling houses, the larger proportion of sufferers 
being young children and infants. One little 
babe, however, was found uninjured in its cradle, 
part of the wall, falling across, having formed a 
kind of protecting arch over it. But other heart- 
rending stories were told of a young woman 
whose infant was killed in her arms, she herself 
receiving only a severe blow on the chest ; of 
another poor creature who, when extricated, spoke 
of having heard her husband's voice crying for 
help, till a fresh shock silenced him for ever. 
The Cure of Mouzaiaville had a narrow escape, 
the first shock having buried him among the 
ruins of his " presbytere," through which the 
second shock opened a passage. 

Telegrams kept constantly coming into Algiers 
during the first three or four days ; such as — 
u Jan. 3rd, Mouzaiaville. Much damage ; many 
killed and wounded. Troops sent from Blidah ; 
details wanting." "El-Affroun — Much damage; 



ALARMING TELEGRAMS. 



61 



no details." Then, "Jan 4th, Mouzaiaville — 
Almost destroyed ; forty-eight killed ; more 
than 100 wounded," and so on ; each succeeding 
telegram revealing more fully the extent of the 
disaster as the victims were extricated from the 
ruins. People rushed out and almost tore the 
papers from the hands of the newsmongers in the 
streets. Conversation on any other topic seemed 
impossible, and everyone terrified the other by ill- 
judged questions or news of fresh shocks. Just 
as you were sitting down to breakfast some one 
would kindly ask if you were much frightened 
by last night's shock ; or your opposite neighbour 
at the table d'hote would remark, with an attempt 
at indifference, that the shock half an hour ago 
made the seventh in Algiers ; or that he had 
heard that there had been a very severe one 
yesterday at Blidah, &c. The violent tempest, 
too, which raged during the early days of January, 
added no little to our fears; the wind roaring 
along the open quay and shaking the windows of 
the house made one perpetually fancy one felt 
new shocks, which, however, were often, of course, 
proved imaginary, not being registered by the 
instruments of the Observatory or Artillery. 



62 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



Then there came rumours, generally contra- 
dicted the following day, of Blidah having been 
completely destroyed by a fresh shock, and 
thousands killed ; of a flame of fire having been 
seen to dart from the top of the Zakkar Mountain, 
near Milianah, at the ^noment of the earthquake ; 
of a [yawning gulf, opened near El-Affroun, from 
which tongues of fire continued to escape at inter- 
vals ; and there was a mythical nun quoted, who 
for weeks past was said to have been warned of 
some awful impending calamity by lurid gleams 
of light hovering each night over the summits of 
the Atlas. But sadder and truer rumours reached 
us of the destitute state of the wretched inhabi- 
tants of the ruined villages ; camped out in the 
heavy rain in the midst of the debris of their 
fallen homes, now nothing but heaps of rubbish, 
for the greater part of the houses being built of 
"galets," or round river stones, and of earth-mortar 
with scarcely a trace of lime, were not merely 
shaken and split, but simply fell flat to the ground. 
Visitors, for there will always be such on occasions 
like this, returned with tales of the sad scenes 
and the strangest contrasts to be met with on all 
sides. I quote from the letter of one, addressed 



THE RUINED VILLAGES, 



63 



to the Editor of the Moniteur de VAlgerie, retain- 
ing the original French as far more expressive 
than any translation : 

" Nous avons traversd le village de Mouzaiaville 
au moment meme ou le cure, celebrant la messe 
sur un autel improvise en face de l'eglise, elevait 
l'hostie consacree : toute la population etait pros- 
ternee, et c'etait un spectacle a emouvoir le coeur 
le plus endurci, que ce pretre, echappd de la veille 
a la mort qui a si horriblement decime son trou- 
peau, elevant vers le ciel ses mains chargees du 
pain Eucharistique, et que ces fldeles invoquant 
dans la simplicite de leur coeur la protection et la 
misericorde du Dieu qui venait de leur infliger une 
si navrante epreuve ! . . . . Nous avions ap- 
porte quelques provisions de Blidah, nous les 
avons consommees assis sur la paille, a Tombre 
d'une meule de ble; un cafe maure etait etabli 
dans un gourbi [hut of branches] de l'autre cote 
de la route et plein de vrais croyants. Nous nous 
y sommes fait servir le cafe ; mais au sortir de la, 
nous lisons a 1'entree d'une barraque improvisee 
pour la circonstance a cote d'une maison ecroulee : 
{ Cantine du Tremblement de Terre.' Cette decou- 
verte nous donna 1'envie de prendre le 'gloria' que 



64 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



nous eussions fort inutilement demande au caf^tier 
musulman. La cantiniere alia chercher au fond 
d'une malle une bouteille intacte de cognac, et dans 
une autre malle un morceau de sucre, et les petits 
verres furent remplis a souhait en evitant toutefois 
le bain de pied, faute de soucoupes — un tonneau 
renverse servait de table ou de gueridon. Eien 
ne nianqua a cette petite debauche, pas rneme la 
gaiete ; car la cantiniere avait bon oeil et bon bee ; 
brave mere de famille d'ailleurs, qui nous amena ses 
deux filles fraiches, roses, souriantes, comme si de 
rien n'etait : la plus jeune, une enfant de quatre 
ans, nous montra ses petits bras poteles couverts 
d'echimoses et d'ecorchures que lui avaient faites 
les platres du plafond de la maison qui pleuvaient 
sur son lit au moment ou sa mere toute affolee 
Ten retira — voila que nous avons rapporte de notre 
petit voyage a travers les ruines du 2 janvier des 
emotions a la fois douces et tristes." 

But enough of such sad scenes. The French, 
with that buoyancy of nature which is one of their 
most enviable qualities, soon took fresh courage, 
and set to work to rebuild their houses. Will 
they, however, learn any lesson from this disaster ? 
Will they see the insecurity of their present mode 



DANGER OF HIGH HOUSES. 



65 



of building, and think of the future? At El- 
Affroun one house alone remained standing amid 
the ruins which surrounded it. To what peculi- 
arity of structure did it owe its immunity ? It 
was built of beams of wood intersecting one 
another, the interstices filled with brickwork, much 
like what we term "pargetting" (from the French 
word parquet), and which may be seen in old cot- 
tages and manor-houses in England, and in most 
of the houses in the north-east of Switzerland. 
It was universally remarked in Algeria that brick 
masonry resisted the action of the earthquake 
better than stone. It has more elasticity; and 
where 'it is combined with the still more elastic 
substance wood, the best material is presented. 
This system of construction is generally adopted 
in the countries exposed to repeated subterranean 
action, such as Asia Minor, Greece, the Archi- 
pelago. Bricks dried in the sun are often substi- 
tuted for baked bricks, as possessing even more 
elasticity. 

Of course the most patent fact of all is the 
folly of building high houses. Even where com- 
paratively little damage was done, that damage 
was in the higher storeys. A schoolboy knows 



66 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



that oscillation increases with the distance 
from the centre of movement, and every day we 
act on this principle when we avoid the last 
carriage of a long train, or carefully choose our 
berths at sea as near midships as possible. And 
yet in Algiers, even at this moment, they go on 
completing the new streets of houses five and six 
storeys high. One shudders to think of the awful 
loss of life which must have ensued had the shocks 
of the 2nd been felt in full force here. Would 
that people might heed the lesson of wisdom, and 
prepare Algeria to resist future assaults ! North- 
ern wanderers like ourselves turn thankfully to 
their native shore, where all is peace and stability. 
Old England may be rough and blustering: not 
from her the warm greeting of the balmy South ; 
her sun is pale, her breath chill ; but at least her 
soil is firm and true, and her children may rest 
secure on her bosom, knowing that if all else fails 
them, there they will ever find a sure support. 



A PLEASANT EXPEDITION. 



67 



CHAPTER V. 

NEW YEAR'S DAY IN THE COUNTRY. 

A visit to a French farm — Agricultural difficulties in the 
Mitidja — An Arab guest — A Mussulman's view of English 
customs — The fashions in Africa — The Tomb of the Chris- 
tian — Its origin. 

I must now return to the morning of New Year's 
Day, when we first set foot in Blidah, recking 
little of the strange fatality which should engrave 
its name so deeply in our experience. We stopped 
only to secure rooms for the night and to buy a 
large bouquet as an offering to the mother of 
Monsieur A — , our hospitable entertainer, and then 
drove off across the plain, turning our backs to the 
Atlas and our faces towards the Sahel Hills, on 
whose southern slopes his property lay. As we 
neared our destination the road plunged into a 
forest of gigantic olives, laden with masses of the 
silver-tasselled African clematis and the red- 



6S 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



berried sarsaparilla. Large clumps of the same 
trees, dotted about near the house, gave a park- 
like character to the place ; but we soon saw it 
was not a mere " Chateau de Luxe," but a bona 
fide farm, The large farm-yard and buildings 
adjoined the house, the whole enclosed by the 
high loop-holed wall so universal in Algeria, 
which gives every farm the appearance of a fort. 
Originating in earlier unsettled times, it is still .in 
a country whose European population- is so widely 
scattered, a needful preservative against thieves 
and wild beasts. 

Our host, who had thrown himself heart and 
soul into his work, was full of enthusiasm for 
his beautiful adopted country, but told us he 
had many difficulties to contend with. Among 
others, the frequent one in a new colony, want 
of labour, and, more serious still, the want of 
water — a want universally felt in the two western 
provinces of Algeria. He showed us with glee a 
spring he had discovered within the last few days, 
crawling almost on all fours amid the tangled 
jungle close to his house. But the supply did 
not nearly suffice his demand, and might, as he 
said, fail at any moment if rain did not fall. His 



AN ALGERIAN FARM, 



69 



farm, although "created/' to use the French 
colonial expression, many years ago, had been 
long neglected. The property extended up to 
the top of the hill (a much more healthy spot 
for a dwelling-house than its present site), and 
down into the rich alluvial plain of the Mitidja, 
once the granary of Eome, now overgrown with 
low brushwood, the result of seven centuries 
of nomad occupation. Gradually civilization, 
however, is reclaiming the soil once her own. 
About two-thirds of the plain have been more 
or less thoroughly cleared, of which half is under 
cultivation. But the cost of clearing, our friend 
told us, was enormous. The almost ineradi- 
cable dwarf palm and wild onion are deadly foes, 
which have ruined many a poor colonist. It is 
pretty generally agreed now that it is best to 
content oneself at first with stock farming, com- 
bined with gradual clearing and culture. The 
mere price of land in the Mitidja is not high — 
about forty francs an acre. Of course close to 
Algiers it is much dearer, but then in return there 
are advantages of a market for one's produce. 

Our friend's live stock seemed pretty numerous ; 
great droves of pigs, young calves bought for a 



70 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



few francs each, flocks of sheep, &c, all to be 
fattened in the course of the spring and summer, 
and sold for exportation. Already we saw the 
effects of good pasturage upon the prancing horses 
of the mail phaeton, which came up later to take 
us for a drive ; horses which a week back had left 
Algiers, a couple of raw-boned dispirited animals, 
bought for a wonderfully low price owing to the 
dearness of their keep this last bad year. Our host 
said, however, that though he had plenty of good 
grass at present, and crops of lucerne, and clover 
enough for 3,000 head of cattle, yet if abundance 
of rain did not fall within the next month or two 
to make up for the autumn drought, he should 
have to sell off all his live stock for a mere song, 
still young and unfatted, as he should be unable 
to feed them. Of course to small farmers, like far 
the greater part of the colonists, a sacrifice of this 
kind, even though less in degree, would be simply 
ruinous. 

It is a sad pity there are not more settlers 
of capital able to tide over disastrous times, 
and who, moreover, would undertake expensive 
works, such as drainage, making tanks, sinking 
Artesian wells, &c, on a large scale, which 



TEE DEJEUNER. 



11 



would benefit the country at large. Unluckily 
France is too conveniently near. A Frenchman 
can rarely accommodate himself to what he calls 
"exile;" and either, having made "de bonnes 
affaires/' he must return to spend his money in 
Paris, or he tires of his lfte, and leaving his pro- 
perty to await a purchaser, equally returns to 
France. It is only the poor man, who has thrown 
in his lot with the country and cannot leave, whose 
parents, perhaps, have died in reclaiming some 
fever-haunted spot, whose children have been born 
on the soil, who is to be depended upon as a 
colonist. 

After looking about the property a little, we 
returned to the farm-house, one end of which was 
occupied by the bailiff and his family, the re- 
mainder temporarily by Monsieur A . In a 

room plainly and usefully furnished, but decorated 
with wild flowers and elegant leaves in honour of 
the 64 Nouvel An," an excellent dejeuner was soon 
served by an old family servant. Wherever the 
French go they carry their cookery and their 
artistic taste. Many apologies were made for 
deficiencies, which we scarcely perceived in our 
wondering admiration of the ingenuity, which 



72 



LAST WINTER IX ALGERIA. 



miles and miles away from civilization had yet 
surrounded us with so many of the " agrements " 
of life. 

Just as we were sitting down to table, an Arab 
friend of our host's was ushered in. He entered 
with enviable sang froid'although we heard after- 
wards that he was rather afraid of strangers ; but 
a Mahommedan is always a gentleman in manner, 
and many a fussy European might take a lesson 
from the composed dignity of an Oriental. The 
Caid (a title given him by courtesy as the son of 
a former one) saluted Monsieur A — and his father 
with a kiss on the forehead, a greeting which he 
also extended to Madame A — , the mother, and we 
began to prepare ourselves for the same. But it 
appeared they were old friends, had met in France, 
and travelled in England together, and we were 
merely introduced and received with the ordinary 
bow of society. 

We all sat down to breakfast together, the 
Caid abstaining from pork and wine, but in all 
other respects eating as we Christians did, 
though very sparingly. He spoke French per- 
fectly, and had brought back from his northern 
trip wider ideas than an Arab is generally sup- 



MAHOMMEDAN CRITICISMS. 



73 



posed to entertain ; in fact, on many points 
rather too wide for the narrow military notions 
and red tape machinery of the good people of 
Algiers, of whose council he was a member. One 
crying evil of Algerian administration he de- 
clared to be the multitude of ill-paid employes 
of inferior stamp, when half or a quarter the 
number of well-salaried, carefully chosen men 
would do the same work more thoroughly and 
honestly; a truth as to under-payment which 
we English were very long in finding out in 
our administration of India ; the discovery of 
which did credit to his powers of observation. 
This system is no doubt at the bottom of much 
that one hears about injustice, both to natives and 
colonists. The government is faulty enough, cer- 
tainly ; but it has often to bear the blame due to 
individuals. 

The Caid amused* us not a little by his 
criticisms on England, and spoke in anything 
but laudatory terms of our great public dinners. 
" We Mussulmans," he remarked, " are desired to 
refrain, not only from wine, but from excess in all 
indulgences of the palate. We eat to live, and 
the Prophet severely chides those who linger over 



74 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



the pleasures of the table. For four or five hours 
we sat at the Lord Mayor's banquet. You are a 
strange people : is that what you call civilization V 
" You certainly did not transgress the Prophet's 
law," said Monsieur A — ; " you ate nothing." 
" Yes ; I ate a peach, which I heard cost three 
francs; and I would have eaten some figs, had 
they been near, just to tell my people that I had 
eaten them in England in May." We asked him, 
as he was such a good Mahommedan, what he 
thought of the pilgrimages to Mecca ? He shook 
his head, and said they nourished a good deal of 
pride, and often ruined families. " A poor old man 
sometimes sells his small property, and goes off to 
Mecca with the proceeds, only sufficient for the ex- 
penses of the journey, leaving his family destitute. 
If he lives to return, they have to keep him into 
the bargain. I do not call that religion." 

I cannot recall more than these fragments 
of conversation, and perhaps our friend the 
Caid may seem to the reader sententious ; it 
is not his fault, however, but that of my me- 
mory, which goes somewhat haltingly back to 
details, speedily well-nigh blotted out by the 
grave events of the following day. Just at 



FASHIONS IN BURNOUSES. 



75 



the last, young Monsieur A — mentioned he 
was going to buy a burnous for wear in riding, 
and thought he preferred the black ones. To 
which the Caid objected, saying, they wore badly, 
and soon grew brown, besides being the kind worn 
by the lower classes. " Though, to be sure," he 
added, laughing, " they are quite the fashion of 
late years, since Abd el-Kader gave the rage for 
that colour, which, being himself of inferior birth, 
he was accustomed to wear. The two I have on," 
he continued, " are, you see, a grey and a white." 
We had before remarked the mass of drapery 
enveloping him, and wondered that he could bear 
the heat in a small room full of people, and the 
fumes of hot dishes. But he assured us, that 
Arabs frequently wore three burnouses at a time, 
and that much clothing never hurt any one; it 
was cold that did harm; the chill of the fresh 
mornings and evenings gave fever, unless a person 
was well covered. Facts, in the truth of which, 
from Indian experience, we partly agreed ; though, 
we ventured to suggest, fever might also be pro- 
duced by keeping on too warm clothing in hot 
weather or in a hot room. 

After breakfast we all drove off, in company 



76 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



with the Caid, to visit a curious ruin in the neigh- 
bourhood — one of the lions of Algiers — "The 
Tomb of the Christian." We saw it ere long in 
the distance, on the crest of the Sahel, standing 
out against the sky, looking like a huge round- 
topped haystack. Passing along the edge of the 
plain, we presently came in sight of the great 
bare patch of ground marking the bed of the 
Alloula Lake, a stagnant sheet of water formed 
within the last hundred years by the deposits of 
the River Djer, damming up part of its stream. 
Government has just finished draining it by the 
agency of military convicts, numbers of whom 
have perished from its pernicious exhalations; 
but the sacrifice was not uncalled for, as the 
whole neighbourhood was poisoned, and coloni- 
zation in that part rendered a deadly impossibility. 
As it was only the shallowness of the lake, of 
course, causing it to dry up during the heats, 
which bred miasma, it is a pity the water has not 
been gathered into a deep tank, thus securing 
not only a supply for proprietors on the spot, but, 
as is always the case with tanks, feeding the neigh- 
bouring springs and wells by infiltration. 

After about an hour's drive, our good little 



THE TOMB OF THE CHRISTIAN. 



77 



horses managed to drag us up a rude cart-track 
to the top of the ridge, close to the Tomb of the 
Christian, an extraordinary building. Its massive 
proportions — its rough surface of large stones, from 
which the outer facing of marble or finer stone 
had been torn — its huge blocks, piled up or scat- 
tered all round, reminded one at first sight of the 
Pyramids, a likeness which was not wholly ima- 
ginary, as we learnt when hearing later of its 
origin. The form certainly is different, its size in- 
ferior, its architecture less simple ; but the idea of 
the Pyramid is there. It is an immense circular, 
or, rather, twelve-sided plinth, adorned with Ionic 
columns, supporting a dome nearly three times as 
high, but flattened at the summit ; the whole about 
136 feet in height, and 195 feet in diameter. 

For a long time its origin was a mystery : the 
Romans, Arabs, and French in turn excavated 
its ruins in vain. The solution of the problem 
is mainly due to Dr. Macarthy, a Frenchman of 
Irish extraction, whose fame as an antiquary 
and historian is not only great in Algeria, but 
has been acknowledged by the Emperor, who 
has employed him in making the maps for 
Caesar's African campaigns, in the second volume 



78 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



of the " Vie de Cesar." I was fortunate enough 
to learn the history of the Tomb of the Christian 
from his own lips. He decides it to be the 
family mausoleum of the Mauritanian kings, 
built by Juba II., who reigned from 22 B.C. to 
24 a.d. The circumstances of his early life and 
his marriage explain the peculiar architecture of 
the edifice. Brought up in Eome, he afterwards 
visited Greece, where he acquired such an inti- 
mate knowledge of its art as led him to select for 
the base of the tomb the Ionic order of architec- 
ture, the order especially devoted to such build- 
ings. The dome, a circular pyramid, so to speak, 
is on the other hand a reminiscence of Egypt ; his 
wife, a princess of that country, having carried her 
religion with her to the new home, as proved by a 
small household statue of the Goddess Isis, bearing 
her seal, found at Cherchell (then Cesarea), the 
seat of Juba's government. 

The tomb had become so encumbered by its own 
ruins, that the Arabs were unable even to discover 
its proper entrance, but made a hole in the dome 
just above the doorway. It has lately, however, 
been cleared and repaired, and stands out a noble 
ruin. A winding passage leads to the chamber in 



ORIGIN OF THE NAME. 



79 



the interior, which contained, when the French en- 
tered : four niches for lamps, the roof above them 
blackened by smoke, and two stone slabs, appa- 
rently resting-places for bodies which had been 
removed. These had evidently not been enclosed 
in any sarcophagus, for in that case they could 
not have been taken away, as half of the upright 
stone door, turning in its socket, still remains in 
its place; the other half having been hastily 
broken down, leaving only a narrow aperture. 

The Arabs call the ruin Kubr-er-Boumia, 
signifying now the Tomb of the Christian, though 
evidently in the first instance a mere literal trans- 
lation of the " Tomb of the Eoman," the name, no 
doubt, which they found given to the tomb when 
they entered the country, and which referred to 
the JRoman citizenship of Juba and the Koman 
tenure of his kingdom. The word Eoumia, how- 
ever, becoming used by the Arabs as a kind of 
general term for Europeans, and Europeans being 
Christians, grew at length to mean Christian by 
much the same process of false logic which has 
perverted the original meaning of so many words 
in all languages. Just as in English, for instance, 
"prevent" once meant "to go before and because 



So 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



a physical hindrance went before and stood in a 
person's way, the word prevent has now acquired 
the meaning to " hinder." In India no one would 
think of translating the "Boumi Durwaza," at 
Lucknow, the Christian Gate, nor of calling the 
palace of the " Eoumi Begum," at Futtehpore 
Sikri, near Agra, the Palace of the Christian 
Queen. The term being there applied to Con- 
stantinople, still known as Borne, or Bourn, from 
having been the seat of the second Boman empire. 

We had a three hours' drive back to Blidah 
before us ; but we lingered longer even than time 
permitted at the foot of the tomb, unable to tear 
ourselves away from the exquisite view commanded 
by the ridge on which we stood. The Sahel, as 
I have before said, follows the coast line, which, 
west of Algiers, trends away to the south, so that, 
although we also had come a considerable distance 
south, we still found ourselves close to the sea. 

All around was wild jungle ; the only living 
sound, the cry of the jackal, or the rustling 
pf the wings of flights of starlings wheeling 
overhead. We sat on the fallen stones, and 
thought of the brilliant, but short-lived, little 
Mauritanian kingdom, whose most lasting me- 



SOLITUDE ON THE SAHEL. 



81 



morial is the tomb of its kings. Cherchel, 
its once magnificent capital, is a mass of 
scarcely distinguishable ruins; but here, away 
from the cities and palaces, this old monument 
still rears its head. There is something sublime 
in the idea of the vast lonely tomb on the open 
hill-side, looking out over the long line of level 
sea to the north — over the long line of level plain 
to the south. 

We turned our backs on the spot with regret- 
ful hearts, and many a last look at the scene 
of loveliness ever outspread before it. The 
sun was sinking, a broad shadow crept slowly 
towards *us over the 'plains, soft pink lights and 
delicate purple pencilling of shadow defined the 
summits of the Atlas, whilst at their foot, far in 
the distance, rose the white smoke of the smiling 
peaceful villages, whence so soon would rise the 
voice of terror and weeping. " Beautiful Algeria !" 
we exclaimed, "happy those whose homes lie 
amid such scenes of loveliness!" Wild projects 
passed through our minds during our star-lit drive 
to Blidah: already half dreaming of a possible 
future, we lay down to rest, to be rudely wakened 
on the morrow. 

a 



82 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



CHAPTER VI. 

ACEOSS THE ATLAS. 

An excited individual — The poor Bishop — Kuined houses — 
Arab incendiarism — Mineral spring — A smiling colony — 
An incident of the war of Abd el-Kader — Arab horses — A 
theatre in the heart of the Atlas. 

Of the excursions in the neighbourhood of Algiers, 
that across the Lesser and Greater Atlas to the 
Cedar Forest of Teniet el-Had on the farther of 
the two ranges, is one of the most interesting. 
Although not among the first of our little expedi- 
tions, various reasons (unnecessary to mention) 
have determined me in placing its description 
among my early chapters. 

It was in the beginning of March, on one of those 
fresh delicious mornings, which in Algiers always 
succeed a few days' rain, that we started on the 
trip in company with our friends, Monsieur and 
Madame A , and their son, leaving by the 



A JUST INDIGNATION. 



S3 



early train in order to meet our carriage at Blidah, 
and reach Milianah, our first halting-place, before 
dark. There was the usual little crowd of natives 
and colonists at the station. First-class carriages, 
however, are not much in request, and, with the 
exception of one French gentleman, we had the 
compartment to ourselves. We had been up late 
the previous night at the theatre, and I blush to 
say that even in sight of such glorious scenery as 
the Mitidja and the Atlas, I fell asleep. I was 
roused, however, by the sound of a loud slap and a 
louder " sac-r-r-re" and awoke to find the stranger 
violently thumping his knees, shaking his fist, and 

gesticulating in the face of Madame A , who, 

curious to say, did not call for help, but seemed 
to listen with interest to his harangue. As soon 
as I could gather its subject I found, of course, it 
was "le Gouverneinent." If government had 
ears, how they would tingle from morning to 
night in Algeria ! 

"Just look," was saying the excited gentle- 
man, "at those unhappy villages ruined by the 
earthquake, and what has government done who 
undertook to rebuild them? You will see," he 
continued. " Of course, you are going to visit 



84 



LAST WIXTFE IN ALGERIA; 



thein, everybody does. Ah ! we like seeing horrors, 
we French. Bien ; you will see the houses just 
the height of my knee, and the soldiers sent to 
build are as gay as possible ; they get sixty 
centimes a day extra, and the officers, they super- 
intend the contracts for material — very good work 
that ; and they smoke cigars, and chat and drink 
' petits verres and the c colons,' ah ! they are not 
quite so gay ! They live in huts and booths, and, 
let me tell you, nearly two months of that is quite 

enough." " Well, but," remarked Madame A , 

" Eome was not built in a day." " No, but a little 
village need not take two months, and there is 
not one house finished. I built two in a week 
there. That terrible morning I arrive at Mou- 
zaiaville from Bliclah, I find my nephew and his 
wife in the street, pitched out, bed and all, from 
the upper story. No harm done, Dieu merci! 
I find my other nephew with his hip broken, both 
houses a heap of stones, and everything they 
possessed ground up small, so small that my 
niece could not even get a dress to cover her, 
out from under the stones. I send my wounded 
nephew to my house near Blidah, luckily only 
cracked ; as I thought at the time. I set to work, 



ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY SHOCKS. 85 



I obtain wood, I obtain bricks, I obtain labourers, 
and in a week there are the houses — modest, it is 
true, but still good houses; not built of river 
boulders and bad mortar as before. Not govern- 
ment houses," he added, with a short laugh. 
" And now, what do we want with ' Messieurs les 
militaires ?' If they had only left us alone, and 
spent the subscriptions in materials, we would have 
built up our houses ourselves." "But the place, 
is it safe now ?" I asked. " Oh, there is a shock 
every day or two ; but people just run out for a 
moment, and no harm is done. I was there 
yesterday. A workman said to me, c Did you see 
that bottle shake ?' To be sure I did ! but what is 
the use of rushing about, — the shocks get smaller 
and smaller. I believe, though, that we have had 
more than 150." 

" And your nephew," we asked, " is he get- 
ting well ?" " Oh yes, but I have just returned 
from taking his wife and child to Marseilles. 
The little girl, she is only seven, took violent 
tremblings whenever she heard the slightest 
noise. Then 1 said this will be serious ; she will 
have fits. She kept dreaming of the ( tremble- 
ment,' but she is better now; she is out of the 



86 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA, 



country. I did not go to Marseilles for nothing 
though, I had my reward," he continued, with a 
smile of satisfaction. " I sit reading the 6 Akbar ' 
at the hotel. 'Pardon me,' says a reverend 
gentleman with purple stockings, 'is that an 
Algiers Journal ? Does it give news of the earth- 
quake?' 'Certainly, monseigneur,' I answer. 
6 I brought it over with me yesterday.' ' Then you 
were there ?' 6 Yes, indeed ; pray just read the 
account.' He takes the paper and reads, and I 
see his countenance grow darker and darker. ' It 
is terrible!' he remarks. 'I am specially inter- 
ested, too, for I am going to the country. I did 
not know they had such things there, and I have 
been appointed to one of the new bishoprics.' 
You may be sure I did not spare 'mon homme.' 
I told him all the horrors I could recollect, and 
dwelt upon all the earthquakes there have ever 
been in Algeria. I do not think monseigneur is 
quite as pleased with his new benefice as he was," 
he concluded, triumphantly. 

The elevation of the bishopric of xilgiers 
into an archbishopric, and the addition of a 
bishop at Constantine and another at Oran, in 
a country whose Christian inhabitants scarcely 



V 



NEW BISHOPRICS. 87 

number more than 200,000, has given rise to 
a general feeling of dissatisfaction, which must 
be an excuse for these excited utterances. 
Where money is so sorely needed, where roads 
and water are so scarce, where the colonist is 
struggling so hard for a bare existence, this 
unwise step has engendered much bitterness. 
The working clergy are regarded with more 
toleration, and many, like the Trappist order at 
Staoueli, have clone good service in cultivating and 
improving the land, and setting an example of 
perseverance to the colonists. The late Bishop of 
Algiers, too, was a man thoroughly respected, and 
if it was not an unmerited, though perhaps a mis- 
taken reward, that he was raised to an archbishop 
on his dying bed, the measure, unfortunately, 
was a legacy worse than superfluous. 

At Blidah we got out of the train, and rid 
of our talkative and excited friend; but justice 
compels me to say, that when we reached the 
poor, ruined villages, our own eyes showed 
us the truth of, at least, some of his state- 
ments. Had it not been for the neat square 
heaps of "galets" (river boulders) piled up on 
each side of the road, the earthquake might 



ss 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



have happened almost the very day before, .'so 
desolate and hopeless the long street looked. To 
be sure, there was a semblance of work going on. 
A soldier wheeling a barrow of very earthy mortar 
here, a group there, lazily adjusting the bricks of 
a wall with, alas ! a large admixture of the old 
fatal "galet," which had so ill withstood the 
shock ; but no house was ready for any of the 
inhabitants, who were still crowded together in 
small wooden booths or in native "gourbis." Some 
of these had developed into shops and cafes with 
their trade or name painted in large letters on a 
board. In each little village the ruined church — 
its clock in two instances still marking a quarter 
past seven, the hour of the shock — was replaced by 
a wooden chapel. In one village the little ceme- 
tery lay near the road, its fresh crosses telling the 
tale of that awful half minute. 

No words but the French expression, "Serre- 
ment de cceur," can describe the feelings with 
which we drove through one after another of 
these afflicted spots. At last we left them be- 
hind; our road, however, still carrying us along 
the edge of the plain, and bending round to 
the west with the curve of the mountain chain ; 



INCENDIARY FIRES. 



89 



till, after stopping to breakfast at the small 
hamlet of Boukika, it turned due south up the 
slopes of the Little Atlas. The hill-sides were 
covered with trees, bright-green ashes and the 
pretty Aleppo pine mottled with the darker foliage 
of the ilex. As we drew near, however, we saw 
they were almost all young saplings. Here and 
there patches of blackened brushwood, interspersed 
with tall charred trunks, remained to speak of the 
disastrous fires of 1865 — fires which that year ex- 
tended over a zone 250 leagues long by fifteen to 
twenty wide, viz., 625 miles long by thirty-seven 
to fifty wide. An unfortunate misapprehension of 
the ill-translated, strangely-worded Arabic version 
of the Emperor's proclamation of 1863, caused the 
Arabs to claim as their own the uncultivated land 
hitherto recognised by them as the property of 
the State, and, according to their custom, clear it 
by fire for pasturage. It cannot be denied that in 
many cases an animus against the colonist fanned 
the flame in every sense. Commencing in 1863, 
repeated in 1864, the fires reached their culmi- 
nating point in 1865, when they were happily 
checked by vigorous measures. It is remarkable 
that, not only among the Kabyles, who would 



90 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



naturally respect their own olive-trees and gar- 
dens, but also among all the Berber groups in 
the south, or on the Morocco frontier, no fires 
originated.* 

As we wound up the road among the moun- 
tains, the young forest and jungle at length 
made way for the cornfields of the little French 
village of Vesoul Benian. A few miles off the 
road, gleaming white among the trees, we saw the 
military hospital at Hammam 'Eira, mineral 
waters of great efficacy, the Aquae Calidae of the 
Bomans. They well up from the limestone, and 
after passing through various layers of tertiary 
formation, whence they extract numerous salts 
and other mineral substances, force their way to 
the surface at different temperatures. The greater 
part of the present springs are of later date than 
the Boman period, a fact which speaks of con- 
tinued and repeated subterranean disturbances. 
The earthquake of the 2nd January, only slightly 
felt in these regions, is said to have changed 
the situation of some of the springs, and caused a 
temporary discolouration of the waters of all. 

* See Chap. VIII. for an account of the distinguishing 
characteristics of the Arab and Berber races. 



EFFECTS OF EARTHQUAKES. 



9i 



There can be no doubt, however, that a volcanic 
focus exists under the Little Atlas chain, some- 
where in this neighbourhood ; the direction of its 
currents proceeding from south-east to north-west, 
or from east to west, as in the late earthquake. 
The whole range of the Little Atlas has been 
raised, it is supposed, gradually, by repeated minor 
earthquakes (the system called slow elevation) ; 
neither history nor geology being able to show any 
trace of sudden violent upheavals. 

The sun had set ere we reached Milianah, but 
the violet grey profile of the fortifications hanging 
over the steep mountain side, stood out against 
the distant Great Atlas range clear and distinct 
in the luminous twilight, like some Italian me- 
diaeval hill town, such as Perugia. 

When we entered the gates it was too dark and 
too late to do anything but drive straight to the 
inn, dine, and retire to rest. About a quarter past 
five next morning we were downstairs again, 
sitting over the fire and waiting for the darkness 
to wane. It was nearly six o'clock when we 
groped our way, in the dim dawn, along the wide 
streets of the neat, pretty town, under tall, over- 
arching planes, and came out on the open battle- 



9 2 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



ments to watch for the sunrise. As the orange sky 
brightened over the opposite mountains, the posi- 
tion of Milianah became clear. We were on the 
southern side of the Little Atlas (having crossed 
its watershed the previous night, shortly before 
arriving), but were still quite three thousand feet 
above the level of the sea. Immediately behind 
us rose the bare summit of the Zakhar mountain, 
glowing like molten copper, or newly coined gold. 
The view in front of us strongly reminded me of 
that from Ronda, in Spain: there was the same 
terrace overlooking a sheer descent into the 
blooming valley ; the same richness of garden and 
orchard ; the same background of mountain, only 
here the landscape was much more extended. 
Far below, just at our feet, lay a basin-like 
valley — its slopes white with the blossom of the 
almond, the pear, the quince; its hollow green 
with corn. Over the rising ground, forming the 
outer edge of the basin, appeared the long, 
straight line of the Chelif Plain; bright lights 
here and there touching the curves of the river 
winding along under the wreaths of soft morning 
mist floating over the grey green surface of the 
plain, nearly a thousand feet beneath us. Away 



MILITARY LINES OF DEFENCE. 



93 



beyond the valley of the Chelif, rose the Great 
Atlas range, one plain of mountain overlapping 
the other, and stretching away westward to the 
lofty peaks of the Warensenis, the highest summit 
of the chain. 

But our day's work lay before us, and we were 
soon whirling down the steep zigzags among the 
vineyards and gardens, and looking up at the 
almost perpendicular heights where we had so 
lately been standing. The Zakhar had retreated 
almost out of sight, and the apparently detached 
fortress-crowned rock stood forward an isolated 
mass, like the old Indian forts of Gwalior or 
Asseergurh. 

Milianah, with its sister fortress Medeah, com- 
mand the entrance of the Mitidja Plain from 
the south, and are important links in the chain 
of military posts extending across Algeria from 
west to east. The first line of defence being 
formed by the strongholds of Tlemfen, Sidi-bel- 
Abbas, Maskara, Milianah, Medeah, Setif, Con- 
stantine, Guelma, and Souk-Harras. The second 
consists of Sebclou, Saida, Tiaret, Teniet el-Had, 
Aumale, Batna, and Tebessa; while each pro- 
vince has its outposts respectively at Geryville, 



94 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



Laghouat, and Biskra. During the insurrec- 
tion of 1865, Milianah maintained a firm hold 
of the surrounding country, or, as the comman- 
dant expressed it on our return three days 
later, " Tout le pay est rest^ solide ;" the needful 
supplies, and contribution of cavalry, being fur- 
nished regularly- during the seven months when 
the general was out on observation in the neigh- 
bourhood. Indeed, had there been any rising, the 
loopholed walls of the town, however useless 
against European artillery, would have proved, as 
they had previously done, a secure defence against 
the matchlocks and small pieces of the Arabs. 
The general told us that in 1847, although Abd el- 
Kader's troops were watching the town for a long 
while, harassing foragers, &c, the inhabitants 
were perfectly safe from attack. 

The following little incident of the attempted 
blockade he related to us as one of those 
bright spots which relieve the dark shadows 
of war : Every morning a detachment of Arabs 
used to be stationed on the Telegraph Hill, 
a knoll separated from the fortress by a 
ravine. Every morning, likewise, the general, 
then a captain of light infantry, used to form 



A TALE OF A PIG. 



95 



up his men on the opposite eminence ; the 
two little bodies of troops keeping up a desul- 
tory fire until both simultaneously retired at 
sunset. One day, as both were thus posted and 
thus engaged, a wild boar was sighted in the 
ravine below. Down rushed the Arabs, eager for 
the chase ; down rushed the French, equally 
eager. There was an involuntary truce ; Arab 
and French striving only which should get the 
first shot at the animal, and for some minutes the 
two were mixed together in amicable confusion. 
From the Milianah battlements, meanwhile, the 
anxious outlookers watched the seeming fight, 
heard the shots, and the cries of excitement, saw 
among the brushwood the red trousers mingling 
with the white burnouses, and mentally calculated 
the losses on both sides. Presently there was a 
lull; and after some little time the French, 
breathless and exhausted, appeared toiling up 
the side of the hill, bearing a corpse — the corpse 
of the pig ! Each party regained its position, and 
recommenced firing as if no interruption had 
occurred. 

The hill-side under the wing of this formid- 
able fortress is no less adapted to colonization 



9 6 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



than Milianali itself is to military defence. In- 
numerable springs water its fertile slopes, where 
all the productions, and especially all the fruits, 
of Europe flourish. The vine is singularly suc- 
cessful, and stands pre-eminently distinguished as 
the future hope of Milianah, and of the higher 
valleys of the Atlas, just as wool is the riches of 
the Steppes, and cotton is looked on for the sal- 
vation of the province of Oran, and of the regions 
of the far south. The climate of Milianah, al- 
though hot in summer, is never feverish like that 
of the plains or low valleys, and is tempered, as 
in all elevated parts of Algeria, by refreshing 
breezes. A large military convalescent hospital 
shows the opinion government entertains of its 
healthiness. It was a pleasure to look at such a 
smiling spot : the little white houses, w r ith their 
tall poplars, standing in the midst of all those 
gardens and fields of corn, those blooming fruit- 
trees, those rills of fresh water. But it was an 
additional satisfaction to see how culture and civi- 
lization were pushing their way gradually inland. 
Like a vast wave they have flooded the Mitidja, 
have crept up the Lesser Atlas, and poured 
down its southern slopes to the edge of the 



ADVANCE OF CIVILIZATION. 



97 



Chelif Plain. Plenty of ground lies still before 
them — plenty of work for the colonist over 
the large tract of country now resting peacefully 
under French rule. Of this the Tell, as it is 
called, viz., the part fit for culture which lies 
between the Mediterranean and the Desert, is 
a good deal more than one-third the size of 
France.* Arab cultivation, it is true, is visible 
here and there, but it is a mere " scratching 
of the earth," and European example and teaching 
are sorely needed. The occupation of Algeria, more- 
over, by a dense body of settlers, would do more 
to consolidate its conquest than an army many 
thousands stronger than the present. 

After a descent of five or six miles we reached 
the plain of the Chelif, and turned straight 
across its wild uncultivated wastes, towards 
the Great Atlas opposite. The road soon ceased 
to be metalled, although military prisoners 
were at work putting down stones and plant- 
ing trees : the latter no small boon to the 
future traveller, as not a shrub more than a 
couple of feet high was to be seen in any 

* Algeria, including the Sahara and its Steppes, comprises 
an extent of surface about one-eighth larger than France. 



9 8 



LAST WIXTER IN ALGERIA. 



direction. At last our way became nothing but a 
rough car road, as it rose among the Atlas, and 
wound away along rocky streams, amid forests of 
jungle like many a tiger haunt of Western India. 
The lentisk, the ilex, the wild olive, grew every- 
where in dense confusion together with the thuya, 
a kind of cypress, here a mere bush, but elsewhere 
becoming an enormous tree, whose exquisitely 
variegated wood is highly valued. In a green 
clearing by the roadside appeared at length the 
caravanserai where we were to breakfast. A 
couple of red-cloaked Spahis, the bearers of a 
message from an officer friend awaiting us that 
evening at Teniet el-Had, were just mounting 
their horses at the entrance of the square, white, 
loopholed building ; some little brown Arab brats 
with long elf-locks played about among the brush- 
wood ; their mothers, each with a smaller child 
slung behind in her haik, stared at us, and held 
out their hands for sous. We breakfasted but ill 
on roast rabbit, stewed rabbit, and rabbit in every 
shape, but always tough, and then resumed our 
way. 

The road grew wilder and more lonely, the 
jungle thicker. Now and then we overtook an 



PACE OF ARAB HORSES. 



99 



Arab or two striding along ; now and then a soli- 
tary horseman rode towards us at an amble, the 
universal pace of Arabs on a journey, and to 
which all their horses are trained when young by 
tying the fore-leg to the corresponding hind-leg, 
which forces them to advance both legs on the 
same side at once : and thus an Arab will ricle on 
all day, up hill and down dale, over the roughest 
ground, doing some eight kilometres (five miles) 
in the hour, while at the ordinary walk a French 
horse only gets over five or six kilometres. In 
this way a goum, or troop, of Arab horsemen 
always distances its pursuers, and the French 
complain they can never catch the enemy when 
once off the plain. The horse of one of the Arabs 
we passed was streaming with blood from a wound 
in its flank, made by the sharp corner of the 
square iron stirrup which at every step still kept 
digging into the raw flesh, while his master, 
utterly regardless, went jogging on, although, 
from the size and look of the wound, it must have 
been of two or three days' standing. A vast deal 
of nonsense is talked about the attachment of an 
Arab to his horse : the truth being that he is about 
as cruel as any one existing, and treats his horse 



IOO 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



no better than his other belongings. A young 
officer, who had been a great deal in the south, 
remarked to us : " They say that the Arab is more 
careful of his horse than of his wife and children. 
That may well be, indeed, as he beats and abuses 
both the latter, sometimes half killing his wife. 
The only reason which makes him treat his horse 
better is its value ; the lore it is worth the better 
he feeds it, and the less he ill-uses it." As for the 
wonderful feats of horsemanship one hears of or 
sees among the Arabs, they are due to sharp 
spurs like razors, and to bits strong enough to 
break an animal's jaw. Their treatment is enough 
to spoil the temper of any horse. The favourite 
feat at their fantasias or fetes of suddenly pulling 
up their horses short while at a hand-gallop, ruins 
their legs, and there is in consequence scarcely a 
horse to be seen whose hind-legs are not spavined. 
Of course these remarks must be understood as 
applying merely to the Arabs of Algeria. With 
regard to the horses, they are rather of the 
Berber than the Arab breed ; of mixed race, like 
so many of their owners, and descended, with an 
admixture of Arab blood, from the famous Nu- 
midian horse so valued by the Eomans. What 



TENIET EL-HAD. 



IOI 



they have lost perhaps in elegance of form, they 
have gained in robustness and power of endur- 
ance. The Crimean war tested well these valu- 
able qualities of the Barb, and proved the truth 
of the saying, taken from the Arab, "II pent la 
misere, il peut le soif, il peut la faim." 

The sun, which had been rather hot since 
leaving the caravanserai, began to lose its strength 
as w 7 e wound higher and higher, and the afternoon 
waned. When towards five o'clock w T e caught 
sight of the barracks of Teniet el-Had, and shortly 
after drove into the little village, the air was 
already sharp and biting, and we were not sorry 
to see a large fire of cedar logs burning in the inn 
parlour, its warmth no less grateful than its per- 
fume at the height of nearly 4,000 feet above 
the sea level. 

After dinner, as we all felt very lively and not 
the least disposed to go to bed as yet, w r e amused 
ourselves by a visit to the theatre, a place of 
entertainment one would scarcely expect to find 
in the heart of the Great Atlas mountains, after 
travelling some 120 miles into the interior. If 
the building was but a tumble-down shed ; if " les 
premieres" were but a ricketty gallery of rough 



102 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



planks ; if the scenery and dresses were strangely 
inappropriate — the acting was infinitely superior 
to what one sees on many an English stage. The 
French have a natural turn for acting ; and though 
the performers were but two or three soldiers and 
a mason, Scribe's lively little comedy " Pascal et 
Chambord " was played with all fitting spirit. 
That the heroine, a noble damsel, should always 
be in difficulties — with her crinoline; that she 
should speak with the deepest bass voice of the 
whole company ; that she should occasionally ex- 
press her feelings by a hearty thwack on her 
confidante's shoulder — was only to be expected 
in the nature of things. But there was a mag- 
nificent soubrette ; a delightful baron, the villain of 
the piece ; and there were two gallant soldiers, with 
one of whom the high-born heroine of course falls 
in love, greatly to the satisfaction of the military 
audience. The baron was always turning up in 
the midst of the love-scenes between his rival, the 
soldier, and the heroine, and going off into a ter- 
rific passion ; the soubrette was always coming to 
the rescue, — physically as well as morally,— as a 
muscular female of five feet ten could well do. 
Altogether it was one of those amusing improba- 



DANGEROUS LAUGHTER. 



103 



bilities which only Frenchmen can write or act. 
I never saw people roll and twist themselves in 
such agonies of enjoyment as the privates on the 
benches below, while above, in the " premieres," 
we. had to watch for the ludicrous "points," and 
cling with all our might to the cedar posts sup- 
porting the gallery, as the frail structure shook 
and trembled with every fresh fit of laughter 
among the officers. 

My next neighbour was a Jewess, respectably 
and even handsomely dressed, with the usual 
French shawl covering her gold-laced bodice, 
and arms bare from the elbow. She had the 
sweetest little girl of two upon her knee, and 
both mother and child seemed to understand 
the play almost equally well, and rolled their 
large black eyes in wonderment. The young 
Jewesses of Algiers generally speak French, but the 
older women, and most of those in the country, can 
only talk Arabic, and, are in fact, so like Moors in 
their habits of life, that the French persist in 
calling them Moorish-Jews — an impossible combi- 
nation, as they never intermarry with natives. 
We could only smile at the pretty little creature, 
as it sucked a large lollipop — a smile which the 



104 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



mother returned with interest. When the first 
piece was ended, the last laugh had subsided, and 
the equilibrium of the gallery was restored, we 
left the theatre, and returned to our little 
hotel. Although it could boast of but two sleep- 
ing-rooms with very dirty floors, the beds were 
scrupulously clean, and we lay down in them con- 
fidingly and slept as soundly as the barking of a 
ferocious dog below permitted. 



THE START. 



105 



CHAPTEB YII. 

AN ABAB BANQUET IN THE CEDAR FOREST. 

A Spahi upon "woman" — The giants of the forest — The 
green parlour — The "menu" of the banquet — Blidah again 
— Visit to an Arab acquaintance — The condition of Mo- 
hammedan women — The town and country mouse. 

Next day as we came out about nine a.m. into the 
main street of the little outpost of Teniet, the 
air was keen and fresh, exhilarating as a cold- 
weather morning in Upper India. The hoar frost 
sparkled on the grass, thin ice lay in the wheel- 
tracks, as we started on our expedition to the 
famous Forest of Cedars, renowned even in Eoman 
times, and of one of whose enormous trees we had 
seen in the Museum at Algiers a section upwards 
of six feet in diameter, giving us some idea of the 
mighty giants we were to behold in their native 
home. Half the party rode away in advance with 
a young French officer, a friend of Monsieur A — 's ; 



io6 LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



the rest of us mounted into a species of Swiss 
car, and under the guidance of a Spahi, drove 
off gallantly along the road for about ten minutes. 
Then we began slowly to ascend the open hill- 
side, a deep rut here and there pointing out our 
way. Soon the driver, assuring us there was a 
little "mauvais bout" to pass, politely assisted 
us to descend from the carriage for a few minutes. 
There were so many of these "mauvais bouts" 
that we preferred walking to the gymnastic feat 
of continually getting in and out of the car. 

The Spahi who devoted himself to us show r ed us 
many short cuts as we panted up the steep moun- 
tain, and at last insisted that Monsieur A — should 
mount his horse, which he did with considerable 
difficulty, owing to the high-backed Arab saddle, 
so hard for a European to swing himself across. 
The Spahi was quite exultant, and kept repeat- 
ing, "Moi jeune, moi marche, toi vieux, toi vite 
fatigue." He spoke French intelligibly, but with 
a strange pronunciation, and retaining the second 
person singular of the Arabic idiom. He told us 
a good deal about himself in answer to our ques- 
tions, and said the horse belonged to him ; that 
every Spahi must bring his own, and that they 



THE SPAHIS. 



107 



were generally men of some little substance and 
family. He had at home, he said, 200 sheep and 
other stock. His pay was seventy francs a month, 
of which twenty-two francs were cut for the feed 
of his horse. The Corps of Spahis seemed to 
us much like a regiment of Indian irregular 
cavalry. He was very anxious to know whether 
both of us ladies were Monsieur A — 's wives ; but on 
our asking him if he had two wives himself, he 
shook his head, and answered vehemently, " Non, 
non, deux femmes se bitant (battent) ;" adding 
ingenuously, that instead of a second wife he had 
a man to cut wood and draw water — " il est plus 
fort, et plus bon," — showing plainly his ideas of 
wifely duty. Monsieur A — remarked that he was 
right: "Deux femmes dans une maison c'est 
1'enfer." Spahi : " Quest ce que c'est que l'en- 
fer ?" Monsieur A — : " C'est la maison de Shei- 
tan." Spahi (reflectively to himself) : " Ah, oui, 
il y a beaucoup de femmes avec Sheitan " — a 
complimentary opinion of women which spoke 
volumes for his experience. 

Meanwhile we slowly progressed on our way, 
and the road getting less steep we returned to 
our places in the car, and at last approached 



io8 



LAST WINTER IX ALGERIA. 



the outskirts of the forest. Gradually the trees 
became closer and more numerous, and we re- 
joiced at our slow progress, which enabled us to 
enjoy the grand beauty of the scene. One or 
two people had told us they were much dis- 
appointed in the forest. I suppose they expected 
a dense mass of overarching trees, shutting out 
the light of heaven above, and the view of 
mountain around, and so losing all idea of form 
and individuality, whereas cedars ought to be 
looked at singly rather than in masses ; and 
though in parts the forest was thick enough, its 
picturesqueness was chiefly due to these gigantic 
trees having space to develop fully their mag- 
nificent proportions, as they were scattered about 
in every variety of situation : now hanging over 
the abyss, now standing in solitary grandeur on 
some lofty rock, amid a wild chaos of sandstone 
blocks. A majestic specimen in the perfection of 
growth, rearing its crown of branches fifty or sixty 
feet above us to the right, a scathed and whitened 
skeleton standing out weird-like against the sky to 
the left ; aged, blasted trunks lying at the feet of 
graceful saplings ; while down the mountain-slopes 
beneath us the broad, flat tree-tops descended in 



A FOREST GLADE, 



log 



tiers like steps, or drawn up in close, serried ranks, 
darkened the hill-side away in the distance. 

Many of the trees were of great girth, but it 
was strange how little depth of soil they required, 
— how they seemed to spring out of the rock 
itself. Our Spahi said that when the heavy snow 
rested long on their umbrella-like summits, they 
often gave way beneath the load, having no firm 
hold of the ground, and fell uprooted to swell the 
numbers of whitened corpses around. Just as 
the wild grandeur of the scene was at its height, 
the road turned a corner, and a large open green 
space burst on our view below — an island of ver- 
dure in the sombre forest — the projecting but- 
tresses of the mountain holding it, as it were, in 
their grasp, like enfolding arms. The forest rose 
at the back of this green ledge, or plateau, threw 
a straggling line of cedars across its front, and 
then disappeared down into the valley beneath. 
A pool of water lay in its hollow, reflecting the 
blue sky above, the white burnouses of the sur- 
rounding Arabs, and the red cloaks of one or two 
Spahis. Horsemen caracoled about, and galloped 
up and down, " making fantasia," as our attendant 
said. Carrying our eye up to the outer edge of 



IIO 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



the glade, we saw, pitched under the largest of the 
trees, a black Arab tent. Horses were picketted 
at a little distance, while a few yards further, two 
mounted Arabs stood motionless as statues, clearly 
outlined against the soft, grey background of dis- 
tant mountains. 

In a feAv minutes, leaving the car, we were close 
to the party, and were presented to Ben Moussa, 
Chief and Caid of the tribe of the Beni-Hayan, 
who had prepared a "diffa," or dinner of cere- 
mony, in honour of the friends of our young 
French acquaintance — no disagreeable substitute 
for a pic-nic breakfast. Entering the tent, we 
seated ourselves as well as we could on cushions 
on the ground, round a small circular table 
scarcely a foot high. As the various dishes were 
served, one by one, and helped by our courteous 
host, we inquired and wrote down the name of 
each. For the edification of my readers I append 
the following : 



MENU. 




Shoorha 
Torta . 
Dolmen 



soup. 

meat pasty. 

cabbage stuffed with force- 



Hammis . 
Hammis . 



meat. 

of mutton — a kind of ragout, 
of chicken. 



A SHEEP ROASTED WHOLE. 



ill 



K6ti . . . Messoui . . . sheep, roasted whole. 
Entremets. Kouskous . . preparation of flour served 

with sour rnilk. 

( Chinia . . . oranges. 
Dessert . < Assl .... honey. 

( Kab-el-hazl . . bonbons. 

The first five dishes were good and savoury, very- 
like native Indian cookery, though pervaded by 
a kind of cheesy flavour, owing to the universal 
presence of the favourite sour milk. The grand 
" plat " of the feast, however, was the roast sheep. 
It was brought in on a long wooden spit, and as 
it appeared in the distance, coming from the 
cooking-tent carried over a man's shoulder, looked 
horribly like a monkey clinging to a pole. 

When the sheep was laid on the table, pieces of 
the scorched browned skin were torn off and 
handed to us to eat like biscuit in our fingers. 
Delicious morsels, crisp and " toothsome !" Then 
a tall Arab, who acted as Grand Sewer of the 
banquet, advanced, and, seizing the sheep in the 
region of the spine, by a dexterous longitudinal 
cut separated the meat from the backbone, and 
with a twirl of the knife, turned it back in a flap, 
from which we cut portions with our own knives, 
eating them like cake. A more succulent roti I 



112 



LAST WIN TEE IN ALGERIA. 



never tasted ; alas ! that the trammels of civiliza- 
tion and the price of butchers' meat hinder one 
from cooking and eating one's daily mutton thus 
in England ! 

After the sheep was carried off to be divided, 
like the rest of the previous dishes, among the 
Caid's retainers, the kouskous, or national dish, was 
brought in — a ^irge bowl filled with a yellowish 
preparation of flour, rubbed into tiny grains, boiled 
and loosely piled up like well-cooked rice. Over 
this was poured a quantity of hot sour milk, and 
then we were directed each to make with our 
spoon our own little hole at the edge of the pud- 
ding-like mass, and eat away till we were tired. 
We soon retired from the field, telling our hos- 
pitable entertainer that Ave had enjoyed so many 
good things we could eat no more ; only half the 
truth, however, as the kouskous was very nasty, 
tasting like a sweet rice-pudding flavoured with 
strong cheese. The young officer told us that 
when mixed with meat, gravy, and spices, as at 
the daily Arab meal, it was exceedingly nice and 
savoury ; but this being a dinner of ceremony the 
correct thing was to serve it simple, as a kind of 
sweet. These two last dishes were the only ones 



OUR HOST BEN MOUSSA. 



"3 



we ate native fashion, our kind guide having sent 
his own plates, knives and forks, &o., for our use. 

We drank some very fair " petit vin" of France, 
from the Caid's own cellar, to speak metaphorically. 
The Arabs belonging to the less strict Moham- 
medan sects often take a little wine, though our 
host, a melancholy-looking though handsome man, 
on this occasion abstained, as he was suffering 
from fever, and only out of politeness tasted the 
first dish to make us welcome. As the kouskous 
was removed, he said, in a meaning voice, " Take 
it to them" interpreted to us as referring to the 
women of his family, who had cooked the whole 
repast in a tent hidden among the trees lower 
down the hill. The Arab women of the country 
are not kept shut up like the Moorish women, but 
the higher their rank the more retired they live, 
hiding like Sarah behind the tent. 

A large house was pointed out to us at the bottom 
of the valley as belonging to Ben Moussa, presented 
to him by the French Government, for services in 
troublous times, which, by-the-bye, had also been 
acknowledged by the decoration of the Legion of 
Honour, which we had remarked on his breast. 
We were rather surprised to hear that he actually 

1 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



lived in his house and not in a tent outside, as 
some are said to do when government saddles them 
with such an unacceptable gift, for we knew that 
the real Arabs of the "Grande Tente," as they 
are called, have the strongest aversion to the con- 
finement of a house. A French general, indeed, 
told us that he had once prepared a handsome 
suite of apartments at Algiers for the reception 
of some great chief, who, on his arrival, however, 
after declaring there was a bad smell, and setting 
all the windows and doors open, presently sent a 
message, through his interpreter, begging he might 
not be considered discourteous if he pitched his 
tent somewhere and slept there, as it was bad 
enough to be in a town, but to be inside a house 
in a town was more than he could bear ! 

On subsequent inquiry, we found that the 
Beni-Hayan (Beni meaning sons, the plural of 
Ben), Ben Moussa's tribe, were not a pure Arab 
but a Berberized Arab tribe,* inheriting, of 

* Vide " Kecherches sur l'origine et la migration des tribus 
d'Afrique," by Colonel Carette, of the French Engineers, 
where the pure Arab tribes are enumerated by name, and 
estimated at no more than twenty in all Algeria ; viz., six in 
the province of Algiers, five in that of Oran, and nine in the 
province of Constantine — but of this more hereafter. 



THE EAGLE, 



"5 



course, many of the customs of the more settled 
race, among others, the preference for a fixed 
habitation. 

After dinner and coffee we bade our host adieu, 
and walked on for about half an hour to a neigh- 
bouring " Col," from whence we had a magnificent 
view of Warensenis, the mountain we had seen 
first from Milianah, and the loftiest of the Great 
Atlas chain, which is, however, a lower range than 
the Little Atlas. As we were standing looking at 
the great blue mass with its three peaks towering 
above the serrated lines of intervening hills, like 
some stormy sea petrified into stillness, an im- 
mense eagle came sailing over our heads, and at 
length settled on a point of rock, within gunshot. 
They are very difficult birds to shoot, and of this 
he seemed perfectly aware, for he sat calmly aloft, 
regarding us in spite of hoots and cries. The 
feathers are so compact and slippery that any- 
thing but a bullet glances off them, and one eagle 
was mentioned who had allowed itself to be shot 
at unsuccessfully five or six times running without 
even moving. 

Our charming day was drawing to its close, the 
shade of the forest began to grow chill, a cold breath 



u6 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



of wind swept through the branches, the dark 
foliage deepened into gloom, the streams which 
had sparkled so brightly among the rocks looked 
sluggish and icy. We turned, therefore, our 
backs on our green dining-room, mounted our 
triumphal car, and wound along up the hill-side, 
among the cedars. An odour more aromatic than 
that of pines lingered about them, the sun still 
reddened the trunks as we rose out of the hollow, 
but soon the shadow stole again over us, and twi- 
light reigned everywhere but on the distant 
Atlas to the north, as yet glowing in the sunset. 
After passing through every shade of red, violet, 
and purple, they too faded out into the uniform tint 
of cold grey which overspread the whole land- 
scape. About a third up the slope of the Atlas a 
thin thread-like line of white was pointed out to us 
as Milianah, towards which, on the morrow, our 
returning steps would be bent. And so, accord- 
ingly, we retraced our path, crossed once more the 
plain of the Chelif, toiled up and whirled down the 
Little Atlas, pausing again for one night at Mili- 
anah, and found ourselves on the afternoon of the 
fifth day back at Blidah, civilization, and the 
railway. 



B LID AH AFTER THE EARTHQUAKE. 117 



As we had still upwards of an hour to wait 
before the departure of the train, we agreed to 
spend the interval in visiting our Arab friend of 
New Year's Day, and accordingly walked up into 
the town, nearly half a mile from the station. 
We had not been in Blidah since the awful morn- 
ing of the 2nd of January, and it was with no 
little emotion that we stood once more in the 
little square where we had spent those terrible 
hours, side by side with the stricken people, 
expecting every moment fresh horrors. The 
full memory of everything came back to us 
as we saw the hotel where we had slept, and 
whence we had fled for our lives. The side street, 
into which our rooms looked, was blocked up by 
immense beams supporting the tottering walls, 
which, seamed by deep fissures, leaned forward, 
and appeared ready to fall every moment. Every- 
where, as we passed along through the town, de- 
serted houses and busy bricklayers told their tale. 
Poor little Blidah! it will scarcely rise again I 
fear. Having regained, since the earthquake of 
1825, some portion of its former prosperity, and 
attained to 8,000 inhabitants, scarce half the 
number of its original population, it has now, in 



ii8 LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 

addition to this year's disaster, a further blow in 
store in the progress of the railway, of which as 
yet it is the terminus. Hitherto its charming 
situation at the foot of the Atlas, its country air, 
and shady orange-groves, have made it a favourite 
sanitarium of the residents of Algiers, who con- 
stantly run out thither for a few days' or weeks' 
change. But when the line reaches Milianah, 
within four miles of which there will be a station, 
the superior climate of the mountain city will, no 
doubt, carry the day. 

It was a relief to turn from the more ruinous 
French quarter of the town to the native streets, 
w r here among the low one-storeyed houses much 
less damage had occurred. The Caid met us 
close to his own door, and, preceding us with a 
warning cry for his wife or any ladies to retire, 
ushered us across the orange-planted courtyard 
into the mile de reception, extending along its 
further side. Its furniture was a strange mixture 
of French and Algerian. On the wall immedi- 
ately opposite the entrance hung one of those 
handsome mirrors so common in the Moorish 
houses of Algiers, obtained probably from the 
Venetian traders who formerly frequented its 



TWO LITTLE DARLINGS. 



119 



coast. An Arab carpet was spread out on the 
floor, but French chintz covered the sofa and 
cushions. Gaudily painted wooden etageres, from 
which were suspended ostrich eggs decorated 
with crimson-silk tassels, adorned the walls, side 
by side with a photograph of the Caid, a coloured 
print, out of the Book of Beauty, and a handsome 
engraving of the Emperor. A low divan filled 
the place of honour fronting the door ; a row of 
still lower cushions extended further down the 
room, while half a dozen cane-bottomed chairs 
stood awkwardly about, as if feeling out of 
place where their services were so little appre- 
ciated. 

Scarcely were we seated ere the sounds of 
childish laughter, and the scuffling of little feet 
made themselves heard, and two of the loveliest 
little girls of six and seven years old rushed into 
the room, throwing their arms round their father's 
neck first, and then coming to each of us in 
succession, and putting up their little faces to be 
kissed. Their long auburn plaits hung down 
their backs, coloured muslin jackets covered the 
upper part of their small, graceful bodies, while 
full white trousers, bound at the waist by a silk 



120 



LAST WIXTER IN ALGERIA. 



sash, fell over their tiny bare feet; they were 
miniature Moorish ladies. Their courage, how- 
ever, seemed exhausted by the pretty greeting 
to which they had evidently been exhorted by 
some unseen monitor. Hastily disengaging them- 
selves from our caresses, they thrust their feet 
into the little slippers which they had shuffled 
off on the threshold (according to eastern habits), 
and disappeared as quickly as they had en- 
tered. 

On our asking the Caid if we ladies might see 
his wife, he assented willingly, and as soon as the 
gentlemen of our party had taken leave, he brought 
in and presented to us a graceful and really beau- 
tiful woman of about five or six and twenty. She 
was dressed almost exactly like her little girls, with 
the addition of a white shawl wrapped round her 
shoulders. The Caid apologised for her simple 
toilette, saying she had not long lost her youngest 
child, and that the absence of rich dress, and of 
all jewellery, was their way of mourning ; just 
what I remembered to be the case with a Parsee 
widow whom I once visited at Bombay. Our 
conversation of course was limited, but we begged 
the Caid to offer our compliments, and to say how 



THE C AID'S WIFE. 



121 



pretty we thought the children, but that we were 
not surprised at their beauty now we had seen 
their mother. On this being interpreted, she turned 
towards us with a smile so lovely and sweet, that we 
could not help saying to the Caid, her husband, 
"She must be as good as she is pretty." He 
seemed very proud of her, said she was an excel- 
lent wife and mother, and that ten years ago, 
when he married her, she was indeed lovely. On 
our asking him if he had seen her previously to 
the wedding, he answered u No ;" but that he had 
heard her description from the old matron who 
arranged the marriage ; though, he added, that it 
is sometimes managed that the bridegroom shall 
catch a glimpse of his intended from some terrace 
or window ; as for the lady, she generally has a 
chance of inspecting her future lord in the same 
way ; "as I dare say my wife had," he con- 
tinued, laughing. But on our putting the 
question to her, the ten-years' wife blushed, 
looked demure, and altogether denied the soft 
impeachment. 

She belonged to an old Moorish family, and like 
most of that race, as I have before remarked, the 
oval of her face was rather too much elongated ; 



122 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



the complexion was very fair, with a faint tinge of 
colour in the cheeks ; the eyes grey ; but the 
hair, cut short, and falling in straight locks on 
each side, black as ebony. On our noticing its 
colour, the Caid answered, " Oh, it is dyed — all 
Moorish women dye their hair, it is a law." "How 
so ?" we inquired. " Well, it is a law, like you 
European ladies wearing crinoline ; I suppose if 
your husbands begged you ever so hard you would 
not leave it off, no more will our wives leave off 
dying their hair black." On his wife pointing to 
our dress (not very elegant, it may be imagined, 
after a five days' journey) and saying, " Buono, 
buono," he added : " Yes, they admire European 
fashion so much, that many of them have their 
trousers made as full and wide as possible, so as 
to stick out like crinolines." Having mentioned 
our trip to Teniet, and our "diffa" in Ben Moussa's 
tent, our hostess was very anxious to know of what 
the entertainment consisted ; and a slight smile of 
contempt curled up the corners of her arched lips 
as we recounted all the dishes ; when we came to 
the dessert, and named the honey, she exclaimed, 
" What ! simple honey, without anything else mixed 
with it ?" " Yes, clear honey," we answered. The 



MAHOMMEDAN PREJUDICE. 



123 



tone of mingled superiority and scorn in which 
she ejaculated, "Cuisine Bedouine!" conveyed 
fully the meaning of the words even before their 
interpretation. No Parisian lady could have ap- 
plied the epithet " Cuisine bourgeoise," with more 
pitying contempt. The town mouse looks down 
on his country cousin in one quarter of the globe 
just as much as in another. 

We bade our sweet-looking hostess farewell, 
thinking sadly over her fate ; for however enlight- 
ened her husband be, public opinion, and may be 
private prejudice, are against his emancipating his 
wife in any way. He told us, indeed, that his 
mother, a Mussulmani of the strictest school, had 
often said to him, " If I find you corrupting your 
wife with your new French ideas, I shall just stick 
my dagger into her heart, rather than see our 
honour thus degraded." And so she had been 
carefully kept in ignorance, so much so, that she 
could not, as we found, speak more than one or 
two words of French, such as bon jour, merci, &c. ; 
and yet her expression, full of intelligence, and 
her well-developed brow, showed no lack of power. 
We were told afterwards that this was an ex- 
ceptionally happy marriage ; no neglect had crept 



124 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



in, — no rival wife been admitted. Many of the 
Moors and Arabs of Algeria, who have been won 
over to French interests, own to only one wife, 
ont of compliment doubtless to their conquerors ; 
but in this instance the profession was a reality. 



THE MOOES. 



125 



CHAPTEB VIII. 

A TRIP TO GRAND KABYLIA. 

The natives of Algeria — Difference of race — Valuable charac- 
teristics of the Kabyle — Decadence of the Arab — The 
Djurjura mountains — Kabyle gardens and villages — Kabyle 
industry and Kabyle dirt. 

It needs but a short stay in Algiers to upset the 
pre-conceived notions about its natives with which 
one arrives. In French conversation, and every- 
day literature, they are usually referred to under 
the general name of Arabs, and occasionally, per- 
haps, mention is also made of "Les Maures." 
These latter there is little difficulty in distinguish- 
ing as the citizens of coast towns, of mixed de- 
scent from the Moors of Spain, and also from every 
nation that has visited the shores of Algeria. 
Setting aside the Negroes and Jews, whom one 
knows and recognises to be strangers, there remains, 



126 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA, 



however, a large body of natives whose widely 
differing characteristics do not all agree with the 
ideas one has formed of the Arab race. 

Certain marked features, such as a nomadic life, 
a distaste, almost amounting to incapacity, to 
manual labour, &c, have universally been acknow- 
ledged as peculiarities of these dwellers in tents. 
Although one looks about in vain for bodies of 
such in the neighbourhood of cultivation and civi- 
lization immediately round Algiers, still one is well 
satisfied, from the accounts of travellers and French 
officers, that plenty of Arabs "de la Grande 
Tente," exist further south, wandering about with 
their flocks and herds, and leading the patriarchal 
kind of life a real Arab of the Desert is supposed 
to lead. Individuals of these roving tribes are 
occasionally pointed out to one in the streets, 
having come into Algiers on business, either poli- 
tical or commercial. But the main body of 
" indigenes " appear to one very different in their 
habits. In excursions into the interior, for instance, 
one sees Arab "gourbis" (or huts) and Arab 
villages; one hears, too, of Arab towns, such as 
Constantine, the capital of the Eastern province. 
The very terms, Arab town and Arab village, seem 



THE TWO RACES. 



127 



contradictions. In Algiers itself one sees the hard- 
working Biskri water-carrier, laborious as his sturdy 
Gallegan brother at Madrid ; and others, again, 
equally toiling for their living far away from their 
homes in the south — and one hears these called 
Arabs ! Are there, then, two kinds of Arabs ? 

Then comes another complication : Who is that 
sturdy, short man, with muscular legs, bare head, 
and leather apron, labouring diligently in some 
resident's garden ? One is told he is a Kabyle. 
The name is not unfamiliar, and one answers, 
" Ah, he belongs to a branch of the Arab family." 
" No, no ; he is of a totally distinct origin — not 
even of the Semitic race." Two facts, then, have 
become evident. Besides nomadic Arabs, there 
are also Arabs who live in fixed habitations, and 
labour; and there is another distinct race of native 
inhabitants. 

The explanation of these two truths is contained 
in a third, viz., the existence of an autochthonic 
race from which the one people, the Kabyles, are 
descended in a direct line; while the labouring 
and settled Arabs, just in proportion as they possess 
these anti-Arab characteristics, show their mixed 
descent from the same source. Unfortunately, a 



128 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



similarity of dialect has caused tliem to be con- 
founded with the pure Arabs (the Kabyles having 
preserved their original language), but on looking 
beneath the surface they are infallibly distin- 
guishable by marked traces of the same habits and 
institutions which have survived in greater purity 
among the Kabyles. For wherever an equality is 
seen to exist among all the members of a tribe, 
wherever the fixed habitation supersedes the tent, 
wherever any personal proprietorship of the soil 
is claimed, wherever any handicraft is exercised — 
there the Berber element exists. 

Going far back into the mist of ages, before the 
Roman colonies sprang up on the coast of North 
Africa, we find a race, to whom the Romans gave 
the name of Barbari,* corrupted with Berber, but 
whom they never entirely subdued. After them 
the Vandals swept rapidly over the country. Then 
came the Arab invasion of the seventh century, 
when the comparatively small army of invaders 
were absorbed by the more numerous nation. 
Then, again, the great Arab occupation of the 

* The Eonians had received this term from the Greeks, 
who probably derived it from the Sanscrit language, where 
the word Warwara signifies a vile person, an outcast. 

Vide Macarthy's " Geographie de l'Algerie," 



THE KABYLES. 129 

> ! ' 

twelfth century ; its tribes mixing with the abo- 
rigines, but, from the predominance of numbers, 
not being absorbed.* And lastly, the Turkish pro- 
tectorate or regency, commencing in the fifteenth 
century, and ending only with the French conquest. 

Through the rule of every one of these separate 
powers, a nucleus of the Berber nation retreating 
to the mountains of the Djurjura, preserved their 
integrity and their freedom — unconquerable by 
anything but modern artillery. These were the 
Kabyles. They gave tough work to the French 
during many years, but once conquered (just ten 
years back), they have given no more trouble, 
refusing the invitation of the insurgents in 1864 
to join in the rebellion, and exhibiting, moreover, 
wonderful powers of assimilation, being prepared 
by the very nature of their laws, customs, and 
qualities, to receive the higher civilization of the 
European. For their own mode of government, 
handed down for ages, which under certain neces- 
sary control has been left to them, is singularly 
like the French municipal organization of the 
present day — more republican in its mode of 

* The Arab families of to-day date only from this second 
invasion. 

K 



130 



LAST WIXTEfi IN ALGERIA. 



election, but nearly identical in its functions. 
Each village or commune has its maire/ "Amin," 
and its municipal council, "Djema," — consisting of 
the adult male inhabitants. They are attached to 
the soil, and their laws of property descend from 
the same common source as those of France — the 
Eoman law. Their industry is proverbial, every 
inch of land being cultivated, and every useful art 
of life exercised by them.* 

The visitor to Algeria soon becomes aware of 
two distinct parties among the French residents — 
the philo- Arabs and the philo-Kabyles — coinciding 
broadly with their division into military men and 

* The Kabyles are distinguished by many other valuable 
characteristics, such as their excessive ingenuity and perseve- 
rance, their talent for commerce, and by many peculiarities of 
social and political organization ; as for instance, their most 
minutely graduated scale of punishments and fines ; the 
superior position of their women, which differs ? little from that 
of their European sisters ; the curious institution Anaia, by 
which a Kabyle can secure inviolability to the person of any- 
one, compatriot or stranger, who claims it, &c. Upon all this 
I have not space to enter, but if my readers desire any further 
particulars concerning this interesting people, I refer them to 
four articles in the " Eevue des Deux Mondes," of 1865, from 
the pen of Prince Bibesco, which give, in an agreeable, 
popular form, a detailed account of Kabyle life and institu- 
tions. 



KABYLE VERSUS ARAB. 



colonists ; and as is the case with an indifferent 
spectator, having nothing to gain or lose any way, 
either assumes to himself the easy superiority of 
impartiality, declaring both races to have equally 
valuable qualities, and sneers at the enthusiasm 
of the partisan of either cause ; or, if he be of an 
artistic turn of mind, he gives his vote for the pic- 
turesque Arab against the commonplace Kabyle ; 
and, unaware of the distinction of Pure and Ber- 
berized Arabs, attributes the qualities of the latter 
to the former, and so declares the Arab to be a 
calumniated being ; or, again recalling past glories, 
asserts that the conquering race, who imposed 
their individuality upon so wide a tract of country 
in Europe and Africa, must be cast in a superior 
mould. 

Now, all depends upon the object people have 
in view; and these superficial estimates are all 
very well either if they wish to gain credit for 
dispassionate judgment and would-be toleration, 
or if, on the other hand, they look only at the 
aesthetic side of the question, There is no doubt 
that the grandly-draped nomad, with his wild, free 
life in the open desert, his warlike propensities, 
his strange, indomitable character, and certain 



'32 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



savage virtues for which he is given credit — is 
a more poetical and attractive object than the 
ragged, beggarly-looking, dust-stained Kabyle, in 
his mean little stone house, amid the sordid 
surroundings of some ignoble trade, his mind 
occupied with the petty arts of peace and economy. 
But if the subject is at all regarded in a wider 
signification, then the question is, Which race is 
most amenable to civilization ? which will follow 
their European pioneers in spreading cultivation, 
prosperity, and consequent peace over the shores 
of Algeria? The only answer can be, 1st, the 
Kabyles, who are already half-way on the road to 
civilization ; 2ndly, the Berberized Arabs, in 
proportion as their favourable characteristics are 
fostered; but not the pure Arabs, the very 
genius of their character being radically opposed 
to European civilization, and their nomadic habits, 
destructive of cultivation,* tending to keep the 
land waste for pasture, so that whereas three 
hectares a head are computed to support the Ka- 
byle nation, the Arabs complain that the seven 

* Vide page 88 for an account of the different conduct of 
the Kabyle and Berber tribes, and of the Arabs, touching the 
incendiary tires of 1863-65. 



SMALL NUMBER OF PURE ARABS. 



133 



hectares a head which they possess are insufficient 
for their wants. Of course the riches and prosperity 
of a country are not likely to be much increased by 
the agency of such a people. Happily they number 
but half a million, while the Kabyles, and one or 
two other pure Berber tribes in the interior, 
amount to a million, and the Berberized Arabs 
to rather more than a million. 

As for the boasted superiority of the Arab race, 
it has long since degenerated. It is true that to 
it was confided in the past a certain task — the 
Arabs swept over Southern Europe, and brought 
with them what then was enlightenment and 
civilization, to nations steeped in barbarism. But 
their rule is over ; a higher civilization has arisen 
while they have been gradually declining from 
their former standard, till now, far from being the 
friends, they are the enemies of progress and 
enlightenment. 

Fortunately for the colony, the claims of the 
Berber nationality are steadily winning their way 
both in Africa and in France, and its assertion 
is gradually coming to be recognised as the best 
guarantee for the future of Algeria. The Kabyle, 
however, as I have hinted, is no favourite with 



134 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



the military ; excepting, perhaps, with officers sta- 
tioned in Kabylia, or commanding Turcos (a regi- 
ment chiefly composed of this nation). As a rule, 
however, they prefer the Arab — he is a gentle- 
man, and can be made a companion of ; while the 
Kabyle toils and moils, and has no leisure nor 
taste for anything but the petty cares of material 
life. Then, again, since the conquest in 1857, the 
Kabyle is ignobly quiet and obedient ; no more 
"kudos" is obtainable in that quarter; whereas 
the turbulent Arab affords a profitable and constant 
warfare, where crosses and decorations are still to 
be won. 

It is a curious and significant fact that the 
Emperor's semi-official letter on Algeria, written 
after his last visit, should completely ignore 
all distinctions of race, and speak of the whole 
native population as Arab, in institutions, customs, 
and character ; merging thus the majority in 
the minority ; a misapprehension which can only 
be attributed to the influence of the military 
officials, who were of necessity his pioneers through 
the country. The policy of the Government has 
always been the encouragement of the Arab in 
opposition to the Berber element — a natural con- 



MILITARY VERSUS CIVIL. 



135 



sequence of its purely military character, and not 
the only pernicious result of an administration 
where the commander-in-chief is at the same time 
governor-general. That the duties of the two 
offices are often diametrically opposed is but too 
evident : the mission of the one is to destroy, that 
of the other to build up ; the interests of the one 
to seek war, in order to exercise the army — that 
of the other to preserve peace, in order to con- 
solidate the colony. If the political or social 
question be sacrificed to the military or even 
mere strategic advantage, it is not surprising in a 
government thus constituted. An Algerian resi- 
dent one day remarked to me, "What we want 
here in the Government is a few honest men." I 
would rather say, "A few men whose interests 
are not diametrically opposed to those of the 
colony."* The army is but the servant of Govern- 
ment, and ought not to be its head. 

* The right of representation in the French Chambers, 
hitherto denied to the colonist, would no doubt, if granted, 
do wonders in counteracting the paralysing influence of the 
local administration, while, at the same time, the spirit in- 
fused into that local administration by the home government, 
ever bent on centralisation, would be modified by the voice 
of the settler, speaking in his own behalf, and exhibiting the 
civil side of the question. 



136 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



The charge of all matters concerning the native 
interests is delegated to the Bureau-Arabe, a staff 
of officers chosen out of every regiment of the 
army, who are detached to different posts all over 
the country, and under the direction of a Central 
Bureau. One would imagine that some pre- 
paratory training or qualifying examination were 
required for officials whose sphere of duties is 
so wide and important, embracing as they do the 
administration of justice, the collection of revenue, 
the settlement of land and its division among 
individuals of the Arab tribes, the supervision of 
markets, the furnishing of all statistics of popu- 
lation, commerce, &c. ; finally, the surveillance 
of the state of feeling in the tribes, the direction 
of the Sheiks, the explanation of the French 
policy, and other delicate matters. From the 
simple fact, however, of there being no prelimi- 
nary examination of the aspirants to office in 
the Arab language — the language of the people 
with whom they have to deal — it may be judged 
how little attention is paid to other qualifica- 
tions. Is it to be wondered that misunderstand- 
ings should arise, or gross mismanagement often 
exist ? 



FRENCH OFFICERS' IGNORANCE OF ARABIC. 137 



Let me instance two cases. The misapprehension 
by the natives of the Emperor's proclamation re- 
sulting in the incendiary fires of 1863, 1864, and 
1865 (to which I have alluded in page 88), seems 
to have been caused almost entirely by the ex- 
ceedingly inaccurate translation which was circu- 
lated, in many important passages of which the 
original meaning was either wilfully or ignorantly 
altered by the native interpreter, no officer of the 
Bureau- Arabe apparently having sufficient know- 
ledge to detect the error. Again, it is more than 
hinted that the insurrection of 1865, still smoulder- 
ing in the south of the province of Oran, origi- 
nated in an ill-managed dispute between the head 
of the Bureau- Arabe at Tiaret and an Arab chief 
of great influence. The contention was so hot, 
and the affair so undiplomatically conducted, that 
the chief, losing patience, drew his pistol, shot the 
officer, and was in his turn killed by the latter's 
orderly. As he was not only chief of his own 
tribe, but an hereditary marabout, revered and 
obeyed by all the tribes of those regions, they 
were bound to revenge his death, and in a short 
time that part of the country was in a state of 
revolt, and the evil irremediable. 



138 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



I must crave pardon for this digression, but the 
subject is one of more importance than the casual 
reader would guess, and it must be brought 
clearly before him, that he may see the bearing 
of many facts which will be mentioned in these 
pages. This military oligarchy is the crying evil 
of Algeria, and one great reason why the colony 
does not prosper as it ought. We have seen how 
it affects the native, both Kabyle and Arab. In 
the next chapter I will endeavour to show how it 
even more vitally affects the colonist. 

And now for our trip to Grand Kabylia. 

We started from Algiers at seven o'clock one 
bright but sharp morning early in the season, 
driving along the sea-shore and thence across the 
Mitidja, with our faces set towards the distant 
Djurjura mountains, the home of the Kabyles. 
This part of the Mitidja much resembled the 
Campagna round Rome; it seemed more culti- 
vated, perhaps, though scarcely more healthy, 
each little oasis of a farm being surrounded with 
deadly-looking marshes. We could not help 
wondering at the imprudence of the settlers in 
building their houses level with the ground, ex- 
posed to all its exhalations, instead of raising 



AN EXCURSION INTO KABYLIA. 



139 



them, as is universal even in the healthy parts of 
India, upon a masonry platform. Surely some pro- 
portion of the fever which decimates the colonists 
in many parts oi f Algeria is due to the neglect of 
this precaution. 

After leaving the plain, our road turned in a 
northerly direction, so as to cross the lower spurs 
of the Atlas as the chain fell towards the sea. 
The scenery as yet was nothing very remarkable ; 
wide stony river beds, bare red hills — crowned at 
intervals by an old fort — ravines, clothed with 
jungle and full of game. Once from an elevated 
tract of the winding road, we caught sight of a 
boar-hunt in the valley below ; the beaters were 
driving out the hog, which we saw burst and make 
for the deep jungle bordering a stream. Away 
rode the Arab horsemen, whose steeds had been 
curvetting impatiently on the hill-slope, and dashed 
over to the other side of the stream, overshooting 
the track. A turn of the road hid the u chasse " 
from our eyes, and we know not whether the 
"pig" escaped, or whether he shared the fate of 
the many of whose flesh we constantly partook at 
our Algerian hotel. 

Boar-hunting in Algeria is by no means the 



140 



LAST WIXTER IN ALGERIA. 



exciting and dangerous sport of India, where 
at close quarters the ferocious animal is speared 
by the rider. Here it is more a kind of battue : 
the chasseurs, on foot, owing to the clenseness of 
the jungle, being posted at the outlets of the hog's 
run, and at the head of a ravine — for he always 
seeks the high ground — fire upon him as he is 
driven out by dogs and men. The game in the 
north of the province of Algiers chiefly consists of 
wild boar, partridge, and snipe ; a lion, or even 
a panther, has now become a rarity. In the 
province of Constantine, however, there is better 
sport. The country, being more wooded, affords 
more cover for wild animals. Here in Kabylia, 
although we crossed the Oued Sebaou, or 
" Eiver of the Lion," it has ceased to be 
haunted by the king of beasts, save at occasional 
intervals. 

On passing the Col of Beni-Aisha we found our- 
selves in Kabylia ; and soon the land began to look 
more cultivated, and numerous little white vil- 
lages appeared on the hill-sides, always far up on 
the heights, whither they had retired before the 
Eoman, Arab, and Turkish invaders. At dusk 
we drove into Tizi-Ouzou, a small French settle- 



TIZI-OUZOU. 



ment at the foot of the fort of the same name, 
raised by Mohammed the Eavager, one of the 
Turkish generals, on the ruins of a Eoman fort 
— both erected for the purpose of overawing 
the Kabyles. Numerous forts on the detached 
hills in the low valleys of Kabylia witness 
to the interminable struggle between the various 
ruling powers of Algeria and this indomitable 
people. 

We slept at the little inn at Tizi-Ouzou, where 
some of our party were kept awake by the howling 
of the jackals, which they rather imagined to be 
lions roaring! Next morning early we resumed 
our way, and after again crossing the wide river- 
bed of the Oued Sebaou, turned abruptly south, 
and began to ascend the higher spurs of the 
mountains by a magnificent military road, a per- 
fect triumph of engineering. Twelve miles of 
zigzags and curves at an easy gradient, fitted 
for the passage of artillery, were completed in 
seventeen days, by thirty thousand soldiers, to 
connect Fort Napoleon, the key of the Kabyle 
country, with Tizi-Ouzou and the base of 
operations. When the army, in 1857, under 
Marshal Eandon, fought their way into the 



142 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



heart of Kabylia, and penetrated to the inner- 
most recesses of the Djurjura, they erected this 
fortress as a permanent check upon the inhabi- 
tants. It rose in the space of five months on 
the summit of one of the highest buttresses of 
the range — a gigantic natural redoubt, thus for- 
tified by art. 

When the Kabyles wonderingly beheld the 
French army surmount these inaccessible heights, 
carrying one hitherto impregnable position after 
another, " Les Frangais sont un grand peuple, 
ils sont montes la haut !" they exclaimed, in 
despairing admiration. But when they saw, 
further, the walls of Fort Napoleon rise, "the 
white phantom," which, according to their pic- 
turesque mode of expression, repeats daily to the 
mountain the word remember, then feeling that 
their day had come, they bowed their heads to 
the conqueror, and, like the Moors of Granada, 
poured out their complaints over their departed 
glory in many a sad song, whose imagery reflects 
the objects and scenes peculiar to the country. 
" Oh ! mine eyes weep tears of blood," writes a 
Kabyle poet ; " the French falling on the tribe ot 
the Ait-Iraten were more in number than the 



KABYLE POETRY. 



143 



starlings* What riches are lost ! Oil runs like a 
river. . . . The Ait-Iraten are valiant men, the 
enemy falls before them like the branches of trees ; 
but alas ! the Christian has heaped up our slain 
like acorns. . . . Oh, my tears fall like the rains 
of the spring, or of the storm. Thou art van- 
quished, mountain of victory ! Thy sun has set 
upon mankind !" 

The lamentation over the lost riches and 
wasted oil (their great industry), is not a little 
characteristic of the economical and even par- 
simonious habits of the Kabyle. He is said 
never to buy more than one garment in a life- 
time, which he wears as long as the threads 
hold together. However rich he may be, he 
always looks like a beggar, and lives on the scan- 
tiest, commonest fare. The Arabs sneer at the 
Kabyles for their little regard for the amenities of 
life, for working so hard, and getting so little 
enjoyment out of their gains, and attribute it to 

* The starlings visit the coasts of Algeria in vast numbers, 
and are, " par excellence," the bird of the country. One sees 
them towards evening whirling about in clouds, varying 
in shape every moment : now like a child's kite, with long 
fluttering tail, now gathered into a close knot, now deploying 
in a waving line, and looking just like flights of swallows. 



144 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



a dulness of the finer faculties. They have a 
saying, " The Kabyle has a stone in his head," 
meaning he is a stupid fellow, with no sense but 
for the grosser cares of existence ; to which the 
Kabyles retort by declaring " the Arab has wind 
in his head," viz., is empty and volatile. 

The scenery increased continually in grandeur, 
as we rose by degrees up the olive and fig-clad 
slopes and along the edge of one long ridge 
after another, looking down deep into the valley 
on both sides ; the mountains dividing into a 
number of spurs, so that to get round one of the 
large valleys we had to go in and out of number- 
less smaller ones, bearing the same relation to the 
greater valley as the fingers to the palm of the 
hand, a formation exactly expressed by the French 
term dactyle. Terrace upon terrace of careful 
cultivation bordered the road, vines hung sus- 
pended between splendid ash-trees ; fields of 
grain, groves of olives, and gardens of figs clothed 
apparently inaccessible slopes. 

All along our way we kept meeting groups 
of Kabyles, journeying to some market on foot, 
not riding like the Arabs, who never walk if they 
can help it. We w r ere much struck by the contrast 



THE KABYLE TYPE. 



H5 



when travelling later among the Arab tribes, every 
man, of the crowds on their way to market, except 
quite the poorest, being mounted on some animal 
or other, it might be only a very small donkey, or 
perhaps two or even three men bestrode the same 
stout mule. These Kabyle men were I think about 
the dirtiest and most beggarly-looking beings I 
have ever beheld : clad in rags, which, though they 
freely exhibited, did not by any means set off 
forms which have the reputation of being well 
made; while the almost universal absence of all 
covering on the head rendered the bluntness and 
irregularity of their features more striking. The 
type altogether was markedly distinct from that 
of the Arab. The head round, the whole frame 
smaller and more compactly knit, the complexion 
fairer, with blue eyes, the expression more 
awakened, the movements brisker. 

As we neared each little stone village, children 
rushed out, brown pretty things with sun-bleached 
curling hair, showing their proficiency in French by 
crying, " Un sou, monsieur !" Groups of women 
stood gazing at us unveiled, like the Arab women 
of country parts, but far happier than them, not 
mere slaves of their husbands, but on nearly the 

L 



146 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



same social level, and admitted to the companion- 
ship of the other sex. Although, for the most part, 
not distinguished by cleanliness, the women ex- 
hibited considerable coquetry in their dress, being 
adorned with silver anklets and bracelets, and 
curious fillets of coarsely-worked coral and silver. 
Some wore a broad girdle of the same kind. This, 
we were told, was the gift of the husband at the birth 
of the first-born son. All were slightly tattooed 
on the chin or forehead. Antiquarians declare 
that these marks are in the form of a cross, and 
are a remnant of the Christian customs of their 
ancestors, before the Mussulman religion was forced 
upon the nation, but I never could trace the re- 
semblance, in spite of repeated and narrow obser- 
vation. Some of the young girls were very pretty 
and graceful, with beautifully-shaped arms, and 
looked quite classic returning from the fountain 
with the amphora of water, of Roman form, 
poised in antique fashion on the shoulder, and 
supported by both arms raised. The classic shapes 
of much of the pottery, such as vases, lamps, 
and jars, speak plainly of their origin. I 
brought away, as a souvenir, a small cheap vase, 
which, both in colour and form, is quite Etrus- 



FORT NAPOLEON. 



HI 



can, though its material and ornament are far 
coarser. 

About four hours after leaving Tizi-Ouzou we 
entered the gates of Fort Napoleon, which we 
had seen for nearly an hour towering above us. 
The walls enclosed a number of barracks, some 
small houses belonging to settlers, and a little 
hotel; on the highest point was the actual for- 
tress, far excellence, the citadel. The view on 
all sides is most glorious. • To the north you 
look back over the valley of the Oued Sebaon, 
over its background of hill to the sea, while 
in the opposite direction buttress after buttress 
of mountain overlap one another, shut in at last 
by the jagged wall-like mass of the Djurjura, coped 
with snow. Everywhere innumerable villages are 
scattered, each with its zone of cultivation. A 
friend told us he once counted how many he 
could see from the fort, and reached the number 
seventy, but had not the patience to go on further. 

Some of our party sat down to sketch while the 
rest went to see the School of Industry, established 
by the French to improve the Kabyles in various 
trades. . Unluckily, being a fete day, the school 
was closed, and only the lifeless skeleton of its 



148 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



system visible. Already, though not very long 
open, the numbers were 200, and many more were 
eager to join when additional room permitted. 
Both the governor of the fort, Colonel Hanoteau, 
who takes a deep interest in the people, and Dr. 
Perron, inspector of native Algerian schools, who 
happened then to be at the fort, spoke with ad- 
miration of the ability and application of the 
Kabyles, and their anxiety to learn every im- 
provement in trade. Already they have ame- 
liorated their mode of making oil, formerly so 
nauseous in its coarseness that, though an immense 
quantity has always been shipped by foreign mer- 
chants at the various ports of Kabylia, it could 
never be used for anything but soap. 

After spending some hours at the fort, and with 
regrets that we had not arranged to pass the night 
there, we reluctantly turned our steps, or rather 
our horses' heads, towards the valley. 

Our last view of the Djurjura that day was 
from a bend in the dried-up bed of the Oued 
Sebaou, just after sunset. We looked up a 
vista of the valley to the blue-grey mass in the 
distance, its outline clearly defined against the 
still luminous sky; soft mists floated at its 



LOOKING BACK ON THE DJURJURA. 



149 



feet, while infinite forms of mountain beauty 
lay in solemn slumber around. Night had well- 
nigh overtaken us ere we reached Tizi-Ouzou. 
Next day we drove back to Algiers, and from the 
solitude of the Atlas returned to the hum and 
bustle of a large French hotel. 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



CHAPTEE IX. 

THE COLONY. 

A Mahonnais interior — A neat housewife — The cry of the 
colonists : — " Roads — Water — Good government " — The 
Emperor's visit — Factitious centres — Why Frenchmen are 
not good colonists. 

In one of our morning rambles, a charming wood- 
land path brought us rather unceremoniously into 
a well-kept garden, and face to face with one of 
those infuriated and faithful dogs who rush out 
on the unwary stranger from every cottage or 
"gourbi" near Algiers. Before we could respond to 
his advances by the necessary shower of stones, a 
neat-looking little woman came forward, called 
him off, and invited us to rest in her house. 

Passing the kitchen door everything inside 
looked so orderly and clean that we begged to be 
allowed an inspection. It was a humble place 
indeed, with no light but from the doorway, but its 



A TIDY LITTLE WOMAN, 



excessive tidiness was something remarkable. The 
unpretending " batterie de cuisine/' consisting of 
half-a-dozen dented but highly-polished saucepans, 
was ranged against the walls. From a row of 
nails was suspended every imaginable article of 
daily domestic use ; an old iron spoon for stirring 
the pot, a smaller one of horn for eating with, a 
toasting-fork, a well-worn hatchet, a ground-down 
knife, a pair of clumsy scissors, and numberless 
other trifles, carefully ranged in their respective 
places. In the tiny parlour the same neatness 
prevailed, combined also with an attempt of orna- 
ment. Photographic portraits and prints of saints, 
in evident home-made frames, hung on the walls ; 
common bright-coloured crockery stood on a row 
of shelves, a few stocks and roses bloomed in a 
mug of water. 

The good woman seemed gratified by our 
compliments, and showed us her bedroom, a 
small closet, almost filled up by a huge high 
bed, adorned with a large knitted quilt and four 
or five little pillows frilled with cotton lace, all 
white as snow. "C'est petit, mais c'est propre," 
she remarked, with modest satisfaction. Her 
accent was not that of a Frenchwoman, and pre- 



152 LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 

sently we heard her calling to a child in the 
garden in a language in which we recognised 
several Spanish words. She told us she was a 
Mahonnaise, viz., a native of Port Mahon in the 
Island of Majorca, from whence come a number of 
the Algerian colonists. 

We had often heard of the cleanliness and 
industry of this people, and of their neat vil- 
lage Fort de l'Eau, on the opposite side of the 
Bay of Algiers. They certainly differ widely 
in their habits from the inhabitants of Southern 
Europe generally, and especially from their own 
countrymen, the Spaniards being as dirty a 
race as can well be imagined. The Valencians, 
however (probably of the same mixed origin 
as the Mahonnais), are the only exceptions so far 
as the neatness of their houses is concerned ; and 
this Mahonnais cottage reminded us of those in 
the Huerta of Valencia, through whose large open 
doorways we had often looked in passing, and 
noticed the clean tiled floors and rows of well- 
washed pottery on the shelves. 

Unfortunately the majority of Algerian settlers 
are very unlike the Mahonnais, and truth compels 
me to aver that the colonist generally bears but 



Q UANTITY NOT Q UALITY. 153 

an indifferent character (Alsatians and Germans 
excepted). The military are never wearied of 
railing at him, as drunken, idle, and disreputable. 
Unluckily there are too many examples of this 
nature to allow me to contradict the fact. 

But is it not fair to ask from what source 
the ranks of the colonists have been re- 
cruited? The cry of the conquering army was 
ever for men to till the soil and give them 
bread, to tend the wounded and invalided; and 
so to every corner of France went out the call 
from the Government for colonists. Numbers, no 
doubt, emigrated with a laudable aim ; many were 
fitted for the work, but the supply did not equal 
the demand. As it could not be met in a legitimate 
way, Government, holding out the strongest in- 
ducements, opened its arms to all comers ; what- 
ever was " tare," to use an expressive term, what- 
ever feared the light, found an asylum in Algeria, 
nay, was welcomed there. Even stronger measures 
still were taken, what matter what the man was, 
so long as he could be obtained? In 1848, no 
less than twelve thousand mauvais sujets were 
transported from the paves of Paris to the plains 
of Algeria. Has the leaven not worked ? There 



154 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



was a political purpose answered, no doubt, at the 
same time, but the military was paramount. 
And now the army, for whose sake all this pres- 
sure was brought to bear, turns round on the 
colonist, forgetting what he has done and what 
he still does* Would its triumphs have been 
what they were without this civil commissariat ? 
Had colonization been encouraged for its own sake, 
however, and not for mere military purposes, the 
main body of settlers would have been men of 
quite another stamp ; and what is now the rule 
would have been the exception. 

To return to our little Mahonnaise hostess. 
We asked her how the climate and life suited 
her. She said it was not much hotter in 
summer than in Majorca, and that the Ma- 
honnais generally got on very well in the 
country. On inquiring who the little girl 

* One great benefit conferred on the army by the exten- 
sion of colonization — viz., the sanitary influence of improved 
agriculture, and more especially drainage, in diminishing the 
death rate — has been prominently pointed out by the English 
Committee of Inquiry, sent in the commencement of this 
year to investigate the causes of reduced mortality in the 
Algerian army. — Vide pages 16 to 22 of the Report, published 
while this is going through the press. 



WANT OF WATER. 



155 



was whom she had called, she answered, with 
tears in her eyes, that she was the orphan of a 
dead brother, " both her parents died of fever, 
like so many ; she is our child now. My husband 
and I work hard, our little 'propriete' supports 
us, and we have two great blessings — we lire high 
up away from the fever, and we have plenty of 
good water." Poor little contented woman! she 
had indeed cause to be thankful ; these " two bless- 
ings" have not fallen to the lot of all colonists. 
Happily the fever regions are diminishing with 
the extension of drainage and cultivation; not, 
however, until, in some parts, two generations 
have gone down before the insidious foe. The 
town of Boufarik, and many others now flourish- 
ing and healthy, are literally built on the graves 
of the early settlers. 

As for the want of water it is an evil more 
difficult to deal with. The spring and autumn 
rains (the " early and the latter rains") often 
fail, as they did this last year ; and what w T ater 
does fall is not husbanded, but merely serves 
to swell the streams which tear with devas- 
tating fury down the sides of the mountains, 
whose covering of trees has ever since the time of 



156 LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 

the Bomans been gradually destroyed. Of the 
gigantic forests once clothing the Atlas, that at 
Teniet el-Had, which we visited in the province 
of Algiers, and at Batna in the province of Con- 
stantine, alone remain. The construction of tanks, 
by damming up the lower extremity of the valleys, 
has been commenced in Oran, the westernmost 
province, and the most arid of the three. For 
strangely enough the rainfall of Algeria decreases 
as it approaches the Atlantic ; that of the province 
of Constantine, the furthest to the east, being by 
far the heaviest, and its fertility consequently 
much greater. Boughly estimated, the province 
of Algiers has double the rainfall of Oran, and 
half that of Constantine. Much indeed might be 
done everywhere by tanks and irrigation, but 
capital and enterprise are alike wanting, and the 
French are too apt to expect Government to do 
everything for them. Nor is drought alone the 
greatest evil to be dreaded ; but with the lack of 
rain locusts come sweeping over the land, as last 
year, bringing ruin to the poorer colonist, and 
actual starvation to the poorest and to the still 
more wretched native of the lowest class. 

One legitimate demand, however, the colonists 



WANT OF ROADS. 



157 



may well make. " Give us roads !" they all exclaim ; 
" we cannot dispose of our produce ; it rots on our 
hands!" Take, for instance, a little village we 
managed to reach one day, driving some fourteen 
miles across a mere cart-track, and. through the 
bed of the unbridged river. The land was good, 
a part of the rich plain of the Mitidja ; the position 
favourable, raised, on the slope of the hill above 
the plain ; but why did. all look so wretched and 
neglected ? " Because of the fever," we were told. 
For its cause we had only to gaze around at the 
dense olive forest and denser jungle impeding all 
circulation of air, and closing in the village up to 
the very walls of the houses. " But why do they 
not clear this pestilential jungle ?" we exclaimed. 
"Ah! that is just what they cannot afford to do, 
they must work for their bread, they cannot waste 
their labour." "But it is a matter of health, 
indeed of life and death." " True, but all hands 
are wanted for farm work; they cannot clear 
more than they can cultivate, it would be unpro- 
fitable labour. The only way it would pay would 
be by making charcoal of the wood they cut down, 
and sending it away for sale ; but that is out of 
the question for want of a road. Three years 



LAST WIXTER IN ALGERIA. 



they have waited for Government to fulfil its 
promise, now at last the road is being made." 
" And, meanwhile, they have been dying of fever." 
"Oui, oui, mais que voulez vous?" This is no 
extreme case, for the village lies but some thirty 
miles from Algiers; there are numbers away in 
the interior who are far worse off. 

Well, the Government answers all complaints by 
declaring that it has made a great many roads, — 
that the colonists are unreasonably impatient. And 
it is true it has done more in the matter of roads 
during the thirty-seven years of the occupancy of 
Algeria, than we in India during the first 150 years. 
But still from the borders of the Desert, from the 
inmost valleys of the Atlas, comes the cry for 
roads. And why is it so? Why has the co]onist 
settled in such remote parts far away from cities 
and the main roads? It is not his own doing. 
Here, again, the civilian is the victim of military 
rule, which actually committed in civil matters 
the very fault which its own laws of strategy 
most condemn. Instead of proceeding from a 
base of operations, keeping the line of com- 
munication open (to speak in military par- 
lance), instead of colonization being permitted 



CENTRES OF COLONIZATION. 



159 



to advance gradually along the main roads, 
factitious " centres de colonization," as they 
are called, were created all over Algeria, in 
order to victual the troops of the neighbouring 
posts. Often, indeed, the camp itself became the 
village. The colonist must be on the very spot, to 
plough, to drain, and sow, while the army was 
reducing the surrounding country. Concessions 
of land were made in certain parts, and there 
only; and the colonist, ignorant and confiding, 
was attracted to the place where he was needed. 
Whether the position, which was good in a 
strategic point of view, was equally good in an 
agricultural, mattered little. The colonist was 
sacrificed to the soldier. If the post was im- 
portant, then roads w r ere a matter of course ; but 
if only a temporary position, the army passed on, 
leaving the village stranded as it were, and cut off 
from the world. 

A further evil of this scattering of the settlers 
has necessarily been an almost exclusive devotion 
to mere agriculture, which would not have been the 
case had they been massed nearer the towns. For 
the larger the body concentrated near one spot, the 
less simple their life and wants, the greater scope 



i6o 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



for other branches of industry, the more chances 
of success for the many. The number of these 
" centres " has been somewhat reduced since the 
Emperor's visit, the error being recognised on its 
military side, if not on its civil ; the protection of 
the colonists on the frontier having become more 
and more burdensome to the army as it extended 
its conquests, and planted fresh centres along its 
path down even to the desert to Laghouat and 
Biskra. 

But it is often a greater mistake to repair 
a mistake. The evacuation of the little stations, 
managed in a way most exasperating to the 
colonist, by a kind of just retribution injured, at 
the same time, the military interests fully as much 
as the colonial. The ejected inhabitants returned 
in crowds to France, abusing the Government and 
country of Algeria ; while the natives deemed 
the step a confession of weakness, of inability to 
hold the land firmly, and were encouraged in 
raising the standard of revolt on the frontiers of 
Oran. 

Another cry of the colonist is, "Why is the 
Arab favoured more than us ?" and this is a very 
bitter cry, for the tendency of Government to 



TEE EMPEROR'S VISIT. 



161 



prefer native interests to colonial has gathered 
fresh strength of late years. The Emperor came 
to Algeria, he made his circuit in the provinces. 
What could reach his august ears but with the 
sanction of his military entertainers ? Ample de- 
tailed accounts were given him on every subject, 
ample so far as one side was concerned. He is a 
great man, but royalty has a penalty to pay. It 
must see through other people's eyes, and hear 
through their ears ; it cannot inquire and examine 
for itself. He could not break through the ranks 
of his obliging Garde cl'honneur of generals, of 
colonels, of staff officers. Who was there to speak 
for the colonist ? " Les absents ont toujours tort." 
The Emperor returned to France, and his letter 
on Algeria appeared, admirable in its reasoning 
on the facts he possessed. Unfortunately, how- 
ever, there were other and contradictory facts of 
which he knew nothing. But this fallacy has not 
prevented its having weight, and the consequences 
may be imagined. 

One of the results of his visit has been the 
admission of natives as bidders for the land 
of the Domain — the only land which virtually 
the colonist can obtain. This perhaps at first 

M 



l62 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



sounds fair enough. But it is not really so. 
The Domain was not the property of the Arabs, 
but of the Dey and his government, and as much 
belongs to the French as the specie they found in 
Kusbah; and might surely be reserved for sale 
among the conquerors. However, setting that 
question aside, the native and colonist do not 
stand on an equal footing as bidders. The pur- 
chase-money once paid, the former puts up his 
wretched gourbi, a mere shelter, and " scratches" 
the land at his leisure ; accustomed to the climate, 
and but half civilized, he expends for health and 
comfort but a tithe of what the colonist must; 
while in addition this latter is hampered by 
Government with onerous conditions, such as 
bringing so much land into cultivation every 
year, planting so many trees, &c. Happily taxa- 
tion as yet is not a heavy burden in addition. 

In spite of all I have said of the disadvantages 
of the form of government, the colonist could put 
up with it if it had only stability; but he (as 
well as the native) is bewildered by the new laws 
and regulations which spring up with every fresh 
ruler. Now land is subject to one set of condi- 
tions, now to another ; the authorities to whom he 



CHANGES OF GOVERNMENT. 



163 



applied last year for native labour have no power 
to grant it this year, and so on through a round of 
vexatious details. A constitution has been pro- 
mised over and over again ; meanwhile a body of 
contradictory laws has accumulated, which no 
one can understand, and which are continually in 
a fluctuating condition. True, there is a skele- 
ton fixed system of prefets, maires, and com- 
munes ; but there is a counteracting network of 
military officials changing more or less with every 
change of government, — and that is not seldom. 
During the thirty-seven years of French occupa- 
tion there have been fifteen different govern- 
ments; and where " 1' Administration" interferes 
like the French with almost every action of the 
individual, this is no light grievance. The 
motives of interference may be good, but we see 
constantly in family life how pernicious is the 
effect of excessive supervision ; it begets at once 
incapacity and impatience. But enough ; the 
root of the disease does not lie in Algeria ! 

Now, as to the question of success. People are 
continually asking, why is Algeria a failure as 
a colony ? Query, is it so much so as the French 
in their impatience are always proclaiming? 



164 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



Those who spread the report are the military, 
and the unsuccessful colonists, who have re- 
turned home, either misled by unfulfilled govern- 
ment promises, or unfitted to succeed from natural 
and inherent causes. The chief information, how- 
ever, is derived from the military, who, as I have 
said, do not care to make Algeria a colony, but 
prefer keeping it as a " Champ de Manoeuvre " 
for the army, and are hampered by the claims of 
the colonist and irritated by his generally just 
complaints, forgetting the solid benefits he has 
conferred on them in the commissariat depart- 
ment. 

Certainly there is not much show as yet ; there 
has been heavy loss of money, and heavier 
of life. But the foundations are laid. There is 
certain proof of a steady, though gradual pro- 
gress.* Much that was tentative in agriculture, 
&c, is now solid knowledge. A large tract of land 
has been rendered quiet and healthy. Eoads are 

* " The extraordinary progress in prosperity which the 
colony has reached may be estimated when it is stated that 
Algeria occupies the sixth place, in relative importance, in 
the general commerce of France." — Eeport of the English 
Committee of Inquiry into the causes of reduced mortality in 
the Algerian army, page 18. 



THE QUESTION OF SUCCESS. 



165 



extending by degrees ; the seaports have lately 
been freed from tonnage duty, and foreign vessels 
can now come unrestricted in search of merchan- 
dise. The voices, too, which have so long advo- 
cated the respective claims of native and colonist, 
are beginning to be heard, and the friends of 
Algeria may reasonably hope that, if the colonist 
has only fair play, a bright future is in store for 
the country, though perhaps a somewhat distant 
one. 

As for the problem often stated, of what may 
be the effect of the Algerian climate on the 
French race a few generations hence, I cannot 
help thinking that there are indications of its 
being favourably solved in another, not unsimilar 
climate, that of the most northerly settlements of 
Australia. 

Still, looking at past and present, it must be 
granted that Algeria has not succeeded as was 
expected, and as a colony so favourably en- 
dowed ought to have succeeded; nor, indeed, as 
other colonies have done in a similar space of 
time. The causes of this partial failure must be 
sought, I think, in two directions, both causes, 
however, reacting on one another; viz., govern- 



1 66 LAST WINTER IX ALGERIA. 

rnent mismanagement of colonist as well as native 
(to which I have already devoted much of the last 
chapter and of this), and the general character of 
the French nation, 

There is no denying that the French as a 
body are not good colonizers. Only compare 
them with the two people, who perhaps make 
the best settlers in the world — the Scotch and 
the Germans — and mark the contrast between 
the patience, perseverance, and plodding industry 
of the latter, and the volatile nature of the 
French with their nervous temperament, so en- 
thusiastic, and yet so easily discouraged. They 
are characterized, moreover, by a lack of enter- 
prise and public spirit, partly fostered by Govern- 
ment doing so much, and the nation being kept in 
leading-strings; and partly by the division of pro- 
perty, which, providing a certain competence for 
so large a number, excludes that necessity for 
making a way for themselves, which drives the 
younger sons of English families out into the 
world, and furnishes an inexhaustible supply of 
colonizing material. Then, again, to be a good 
colonist requires a certain unity, call it, if you 
will, narrowness of aim, which looks at colonization 



TkE FRENCH CHARACTER. 



167 



as an end, not a means ; whereas the French rarely 
think of it as anything more than the road back 
to their beloved France. Thus, they never de- 
velop into a race like our Australians, — English- 
men modified by new influences and a new life. 
The subject is well worth investigating more 
thoroughly. 

In the above remarks, which I have endeavoured 
to condense as far as possible, I cannot pretend to 
anything like an exhaustive treatment of the 
colonial question in Algeria. But the doubt, 
whether the general reader will take the slightest 
interest in the topic, has led me rather, on the 
contrary, to hurry over the ground, which only 
the impossibility of stifling an inward prompting 
has caused me to tread upon, and the public is 
free to skip as much of the two last chapters as it 
chooses. 



i68 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



CHAPTER X. 

CEREMONIES AND SACRIFICES. 

College Arabe — Fast of the Ramadan — A chamber of horrors 
— "Blood, blood!" — The old sorceress — A fast young 
Jewess — The Gorge of La ChifTa — Our Gaieties — Farewell 
to Algiers. 

A short time after our trip to Grand Kabylia, we 
paid a most interesting visit to the College Arabe 
at Algiers — a government establishment for the 
education of the Mahommedan youth of the 
country. The director, M. Cherbonneau, for- 
merly Professor of Arabic at Constantine, and 
accustomed, during many long years, to inter- 
course with natives of every description, quite 
corroborated the testimony we had heard at Fort 
Napoleon, to the intelligence and application of 
the Kabyles, declaring that he had found boys of 
that nation, as a general rule, superior in capacity 
to most others under his care. Among the whole 



COLLEGE ARABE. 



hundred youths of various native races then in 
the " College/' there were only six pure Arabs; 
and their distaste to European life was so strong, 
that, we were told, it was feared that all traces of 
civilized habits would speedily disappear when 
they returned to their homes, as had been proved 
by previous experience. 

Several boys were brought up to us for ex- 
amination: a Kabyle, a Moor, a Koulougli, and, 
lastly, a pure Arab of the ' ' Grande Tente," from 
the neighbourhood of Mostaganem, in the pro- 
vince of Oran. He had been nearly seven years 
in the establishment, and was just finishing his 
course, but M. Cherbonneau said he had no 
hope of his permanently retaining the little he 
had learnt. He gave, on the contrary, every 
sign of impatiently awaiting a return to the 
free life of his father's tent, and of a decided 
distaste to the habits endeavoured to be formed 
by college discipline. Every time he returned 
from a visit home, he seemed to have become 
wild again, and would talk of nothing but riding 
and hunting, &c. Very like an English boy come 
back from the holidays, I thought, but then hunt- 
ing and riding are not everything in an English 



170 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



country life ; and how different the home in- 
fluence of a civilized household, to that of an Arab 
tent ! But in most cases, always excepting those 
of pure Arab descent, the results were very satis- 
factory. It was encouraging to those interested 
in the welfare of Algeria to learn that three 
former pupils were at the present moment study- 
ing at St.-Cyr, with a view to eventually becoming 
officers of a Turco regiment ; while a fourth was 
at the College of Cluny. 

Within the last year another establishment of 
the same nature has been opened at Constantine, 
a magnificent building, much larger than the 
one at Algiers. It is already crowded with 
pupils, and additional rooms were in course of 
construction when we visited it in April. The 
purpose of these colleges is to fit the Algerian 
youth for government employ, and to provide 
them with a career. But a political idea, no 
doubt, runs parallel with the educational; the 
young men trained in them being expected, not 
unreasonably, to leaven in time the whole mass 
of the native population. Two of the Moorish 
boys, brought up to us in the a salle de reception " 
were refined-looking, handsome lads of about four- 



PROFICIENCY OF THE BOYS. 



171 



teen, with very gentleman-like, but apathetic 
manners, whose gentle, somewhat sleepy, counte- 
nances M. Cherbonneau said we must by no 
means take as an index of their intellectual capa- 
city. Nothing, as one knows, is more deceptive 
than the veiled eye, and apparently vacant glance, 
of an Oriental. 

Some themes written in French, by boys of 
about the above-named age, were shown us, 
which were really excellent as to idea and expres- 
sion. The subject of one or two w r as the late 
earthquake, which the director had bidden all 
the boys describe to the best of their ability. I 
remember one rather good idea for a lad of not 
more than fourteen. After giving an account of 
their alarm, and of their being all called out of 
the college, for safety, after the first shock, he 
adds : " We all assembled in the Place d'Isly, 
and while standing round the statue of Marshal 
Bugeaud another shock came, and we beheld the 
brave old marshal tremble as he never had done 
during his life." 

The arrangements of the college seemed ad- 
mirable on every point. There were large airy 
dormitories, class-rooms well fitted up, a fine 



172 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



playground and gymnasium, which latter seemed 
much appreciated. It was amusing to watch 
the feats of some of the boys of mixed negro 
blood, whose supple limbs seemed to be able 
to twist themselves into any form. Some boys 
again, chiefly new comers, seemed very awkward 
and indolent in their movements. Except during 
play-time not a word of Arabic is allowed to 
be spoken, and in order to avoid the necessary 
translation of the French into the vernacular, 
the lower class-rooms are hung with pictures 
of almost every imaginable object, to refer to, 
when explaining the meaning of a term. How 
this agrees with Mahommedan principles of re- 
ligion, which forbid the representation of any 
living being, I forgot to inquire ; but I suppose as 
the pictures are the work of the unbelievers, and 
not of the faithful themselves, they are permitted 
to exist, even for the use of the young followers 
of the Prophet. 

Of course it is difficult to accustom the boys to 
the comparatively European habits needful for 
discipline and cleanliness. As much as possible, 
however, their scruples are consulted. They 
have a small mosque inside the college, and 



THE BOYS WISH TO FAST. 



religious instruction is given them by a professor 
belonging to their own creed. They wear the 
Moorish dress, all clothed alike in a very pretty 
selection of colours — bright blue full trousers, 
crimson-braided jackets, and "chachias," or fez- 
like caps of crimson cloth ; and very well the 
long string of boys look when going on Fridays 
through the town to the Great Mosque, accom- 
panied by a Mahommedan tutor. For every-day 
indoor wear, of course, they have commoner gar- 
ments, of blue cotton I think. 

We went into the clean, neat kitchen, and saw 
the dinner being prepared by a negress cook. 
It smelt very savoury, and must have sorely 
tried the patience of those boys who at that time 
were keeping the Fast of Eamadan. M. Cher- 
bonneau asked an interesting-looking, slight 
boy, of apparently eleven, if he were keeping 
the fast and ; on the lad answering, " No, but I am 
quite able to keep it," the director remarked to 
us, smiling, that all the younger ones w?ere most 
anxious to be of the fasting number, considering 
the observance of the rite a proof of manhood ; but 
that the proper native test, which he never failed 
to apply, at once showed whether the frame 



174 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



were sufficiently formed, and the fit age attained. 
Taking the size of the lad's neck with a piece of 
string, he doubled the length, and then placed the 
two ends in the boy's mouth, forming a loop, which 
he bade him pass over his head ; in this the little 
fellow signally failed ; Mr. C. laughingly telling 
him he knew it would be so, that he was still a 
child, and his head consequently out of proportion 
to his neck and the rest of his body. 

The Kamadan fast is a great deal too severe for 
those whose constitutions are not fixed. Nothing 
must pass the lips, not even a mouthful of water, 
or a whiff of a pipe, between sunrise and sunset. 
When the fast falls during the hot weather the strain 
on the system is terrible, and even under ordinary 
circumstances every one gets so exhausted in the 
afternoon, that half the native shops close, their 
masters striving to gain oblivion in slumber. The 
moment the sunset gun fires, the hungry beings 
fall on the food which has been prepared and is 
waiting for them. At the " College Arabe " many 
of the studies are relaxed during this month. 
Towards the end of the long and severe fast of 
thirty days one notices a general air of prostration 
about all the natives. 



EVENINGS IN TEE MOSQUE. 



175 



On the last few evenings the Koran is read 
aloud in the mosques, and certain passages 
chanted, or rather intoned, in response by a 
species of choir. At Algiers all the visitors of 
course rushed to hear this, just as people rush to 
see the ceremonies in Rome ; but there was not 
very much to hear or see after all, the monotony 
being very wearisome. The first glance on enter- 
ing the mosque was certainly solemn and im- 
posing ; the crowd of bowed or prostrate figures ; 
the lights flickering among the pillars ; the 
measured accents of the old mufti; the wailing 
sound of the responses at irregular intervals, 
produced an effect for a time, but soon began to 
pall upon one, especially as no beauty of archi- 
tecture, no richness of colour, enhanced the scene 
in any way. 

The mosques of the provinces of Algiers and 
Constantine are of an inferior stamp, and of 
comparatively modern date. Not having visited 
Oran I am unable to speak of those of that pro- 
vince, but there is every presumption to sup- 
pose them of the same character. Euins, as at 
Tlempen, occasionally serve to show the past 
glories of Mahommedan art in these parts; 



176 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



but there is one feature in all the mosques on the 
shores of Barbary, along even to Morocco, which 
at once impairs their beauty, and which seems to 
have distinguished even those of Tlemcen, and of 
Spain — the single, square minaret, more or less 
heavy, replacing the two tall column-like struc- 
tures which so gracefully set off the main building 
in India, Persia, &c. 

The termination of the Eamadan is announced 
by the firing of a gun as soon as the new moon 
appears. The anxiety with which it is watched 
for may be imagined, as sometimes, when the sky 
is cloudy not a glimpse of the truly " beneficent " 
luminary is to be caught, and the luckless " faith- 
ful " have to continue their fast. Indeed, instances 
are sometimes known of the inhabitants of one 
place, where the sky on the eventful night happens 
to be clear, beginning their feasting and rejoicing 
while those of another less favoured spot are still 
fasting, no electric telegraph coming into play to 
relieve them. When the happy moment arrived, 
the good people of Algiers were in a state of the 
wildest delight, which lasted for two or three days. 
All the little children were dressed out in their 
best ; and it was the prettiest thing to pass through 



FETE OF THE BAIRA2I. 



177 



the native quarter, its streets being crowded with 
these little creatures, lovely as Oriental ehildre 
generally are, decked in the brightest of colours, 
their small persons adorned with chains and ear- 
rings, the large, dark eyes pencilled underneath 
with antimony, their hair, hands, and feet fresh 
dyed with henna. Troops of negroes, too, danced 
all about the town in the most grotesque fashion. 
These people in Algeria are nominally Mahom- 
medans, having been forced to embrace the religion 
of the masters who first brought them from the 
south ; but while they duly observe the ordinances 
of their adopted faith, they retain many of their 
own superstitions and magic ceremonies. 

Some of the latter are simply revolting. A 
gentleman friend, an eye-witness, told us of certain 
sacrifices performed in their houses, which were 
nothing but wholesale butcheries of the most 
sickening description. In a confined space, sheep 
and calves were slaughtered one after another, 
and finally a large bull had its throat cut, the 
blood spurting over the spectators. The wretched 
animals were never more than half-killed, and 
left to die by degrees, horrible auguries being 
drawn from their death-struggles; the negroes 

N 



1 7 8 



LAST WINTER IX ALGERIA. 



and negresses smearing themselves with the blood, 
and uttering fiendish cries at intervals, breaking 
in upon a savage kind of music which never 
ceased all the evening. The heat, the din, the 
stench of blood, was disgusting to the last degree, 
and our friend left while the brutal orgies were at 
their height. 

We had heard a great deal of the negro sacri- 
fices in a milder form, on the sea-shore every 
Wednesday, but as each week came round some- 
thing always prevented our attending. At last, 
however, we made a desperate effort, quite at the 
end of our stay in Algiers, and guided by the 
parties we saw getting in and out of the omnibuses 
on the St.-Eugene road, each carrying one or two 
fowls, we discovered the appointed spot, and stood 
watching the ceremony. About a dozen feet below 
us on the beach, scattered about in groups, were a 
number of negresses and Jewesses, the latter by 
far in the majority, although the rite is pagan, and 
introduced by the former people. With the excep- 
tion of a tall, ferocious-looking negro, apparently 
head sacrificer to some groups at a little distance 
off, there were only women to be seen, who went 
down in family parties of twos and threes. There 



NEGRO SACRIFICES. 



179 



generally seemed one individual in whose behalf 
the sacrifice was offered, to judge by the special 
incensing and other details. Immediately below 
us an old sorceress had established herself : a little 
fire burned before her, a pot of water stood by her 
side ; heaps of feathers surrounding her, showed 
she was a favourite priestess, and had already 
officiated for many devotees. As each fresh group 
approached she began to chatter and gesticulate, 
evidently clamouring for custom. Sometimes they 
passed on, when she screamed after them, till, as 
I had well-nigh said, she was black in the face, 
but that she was already by nature ; at any rate, 
however, till she was hoarse with rage. Sometimes 
a party stopped, handed over their fowls, and stood 
patiently awaiting her pleasure : then she would 
commence muttering and mumbling, and throwing 
incense into the fire. Upon this one member was 
pushed forward by the others, sprinkled with water 
by the old hag, manipulated, and stroked mys- 
teriously, and made to drink out of an old pipkin ; 
the rest of the family participating in these cere- 
monies in a minor degree. The old sorceress then 
seized the fowls by the legs, swung them round 
q,nd round, violently passed them backwards and 



i So 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



forwards several times over the fire, cut their 
throats, and flung them down close to the sea. 
If the poor creatures fluttered into the water it 
was a good sign ; if, on the contrary, they flapped 
back further inland, the omen was bad. ^ Everyone 
concerned eagerly watched their dying agonies ; 
the waves were red, the foam pink, with blood all 
along the little bay, as sacrifice after sacrifice was 
offered. When the poor birds were dead, the 
owners took them up and prepared to depart. 
At this stage of the proceeding the old woman 
again began vociferating, and stretched out her 
skinny hand, in which, when money was placed, 
she invariably grumbled, and again held it out. 
The altercation was sometimes long and heated on 
both sides, and not seldom she would " speed the 
parting guest " with menacing gestures, and shrill 
cries. It was generally the most respectably dressed 
who seemed to employ her ; many of the Jewesses 
wearing handsome shawls and good silk skirts, 
and being accompanied by a negress servant 
carrying the fowls. 

The poorer women usually officiated for them- 
selves, and always appeared very particular in 
choosing a proper spot, sometimes changing from 



A POOR MOTHER. 



181 



place to place several times before settling. We 
watched a mother sacrificing for her baby of a 
few months old : after many failures she at length 
selected a hollow in the rock, in which she 
laid the little thing down, and having planted 
a thin wax-taper in a crevice, to serve as a 
fire, burnt incense, sprinkled and stroked the 
child, and then killed a small lean chicken 
after passing it over the flickering flame of 
the candle. All with a devout earnestness, poor 
woman, which contrasted rather strangely with 
the proceedings of two young Jewish girls with 
their negress attendant, who had evidently come 
down to see the fun and enjoy a scramble on the 
beach, while combining their pleasure with the 
business of the day. They scampered about, 
through the pools, over the rocks, up to their 
knees in the sea, to some isolated reef or other, 
under pretence of choosing a sacrificing-place. 
They began by divesting themselves of their 
upper clothing, leaving nothing but their large 
loose drawers and tight-fitting vests, a bright- 
coloured bandana being bound round their heads. 
One of them was the most graceful creature pos- 
sible, not above fifteen I should think, but slight 



1 82 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



and very tall ; she was in the wildest spirits, and 
leapt from rock to rock like a gazelle, gathering 
up her trousers with one hand, and showing a 
beautifully-turned leg and ankle, while the other 
hand rested on her hip, the arm forming an ex- 
quisite but perfectly natural curve. It was clear 
she intended to make the most of her day's 
religious dissipation. The whole scene of the 
negro sacrifices was certainly strange, but rather 
disappointing after all we had heard of its pic- 
turesqueness. It was curious as a study of savage 
customs surviving in the midst of European 
civilization ; but a good deal of idealization must 
have coloured the descriptions which had been 
given us. 

There were other things, also, besides these 
sacrifices, which we had neglected. We were 
now beginning to think of our tour in the eastern 
province, and there was much to be done at the 
last — sketches to finish, especial points of view to 
revisit, &c. Among other shortcomings which 
we were driven to repair during these latter days 
of our stay, we made the oft-delayed excursion to 
the gorge of the Chiffa, generally one of the first 
undertaken by visitors. We had already passed 



THE GORGE OF THE CHIFFA. 



183 



over a good deal of the ground on our journey to 
Milianah and Teniet el-Had, but on turning off 
from La Chiffa, one of the villages destroyed by 
the earthquake, we took the Medeah road, and 
drove away right into the heart of the Atlas ; not 
ascending the flanks of the mountains, as on 
going to Milianah, but rather penetrating their 
recesses. Above our road, rising abruptly at first 
in steep precipices, their wooded sides sloped up- 
wards in tier after tier, till their summits were 
lost in the perspective some 2000 feet above. 
A torrent dashed along the stony ravine beneath, 
its banks encumbered by masses of slaty shale 
fallen from the heights. Just after the earth- 
quake, the road was quite choked up with the 
landslips hurled down by the shocks ; and, indeed, 
after heavy rains, it is almost always impassible 
for a while, owing to the friable nature of the forma- 
tion. We drove on through the pass, rising slightly 
and winding round the overlapping buttresses of 
the mountains, until it began to open out again 
into tamer valleys. Here we got out of the car- 
riages to explore, and stretch ourselves after the 
long drive. 

We were rather a cosmopolite party of French, 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



Prussian, Kussian, Hungarian, and English, and I 
was much amused at the involuntary manner in 
which the difference of race soon showed itself. 
There was a little hermitage on an eminence close 
by, which all of us agreed was not worth the 
trouble of toiling up to see, and so began to stroll 
about the lower slopes, picking flowers, &c. Pre- 
sently one of the number commenced leisurely 
ascending the hill, then another followed, then 
two more, without any mutual agreement. In a 
short time the four were assembled at the top, and 
it was just the English of the party, and we alone, 
who found ourselves thus inscrutably drawn on to 
the height, with that insatiable desire to see all 
that is to be seen — that untiring energy, that fear 
of missing anything interesting — which is the 
characteristic of our nation. The foreigners had 
all, meanwhile, contentedly remained below. B 
cannot say we were particularly rewarded for oui 
exertions, as we only looked over a valley similar 
to all the rest, but we felt we had done our duty, 
and that was sufficient. 

We were not favoured by a sight of the mon- 
keys for which the gorge is famous, and who are of 
exactly the same species as the small troop so 



P UBLIC GARDENS A T B LID AH. I 85 

curiously isolated on the rock of Gibraltar, the 
only place, I believe, in Europe where the animal 
exists. Those at the Chiffa generally come out 
towards evening ; but we could not wait for their 
appearance, as we were obliged to leave early in 
the afternoon to catch the train at Blidah. The 
band was playing in the pretty public garden just 
outside the town, under a group of hoary gigantic 
olives, amid which peeped out the white domes of 
a couple of marabouts. We were able to spare a 
few moments, and took a turn among the bright 
flower-beds and clumps of well-grown shrubs. 
There w T as something in the scene which forcibly 
reminded one of an Indian band-night at an up- 
country station — the strains of music breaking the 
surrounding stillness, the mellow orange light of 
waning day, the rapidly lengthening shadows, the 
children playing about near the band-stand. But 
one missed the carriages full of ladies, the knots 
of officers and civilians gathered round them, the 
riders sitting carelessly on their horses drawn up 
at a little distance, or clanking their spurs as they 
dismounted to join some groups of friends. A 
few respectable bourgeois, one or two rather 
shabbily-dressed ladies, and half a dozen giggling 



1 86 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



schoolgirls, were all the audience. The band, 
however, played away conscientiously, not, how- 
ever, without noticing the unwonted increase of 
visitors, for a sergeant, at a sign from the con- 
ductor, hurried up to our party and presented a 
programme. We could not stay longer, but re- 
entered our carriages and drove off quickly to the 
station; laden with branches of the tall, sweet, 
white heath gathered in the gorge, and with 
pleasant memories of a happy day we" returned 
to Algiers. 

Events now began to crowd upon one another. 
The gaiety, which had been hitherto unusually 
slack, owing to the general depression which fol- 
lowed the earthquake, and to domestic losses in 
the highest circle, now burst forth during the 
carnival. There were some capital balls given by 
the public officials, to which the English, intro- 
duced by their consul, were hospitably invited, 
and which were more interesting than entertain- 
ments of the same kind in Europe, from the 
picturesque admixture of native costumes. The 
Jewesses were especially gorgeous ; but their dress 
naturally looked heavy and barbaric, with its gold 
embroidery and velvet jacket, among the elegant 



A BALL IN FAIRYLAND. 



187 



Parisian toilettes of the French ladies. We were 
glad to meet one or two acquaintances among the 
Arabs, stalking about in their white burnouses, 
and looking, we thought, rather bored with the 
whole concern, their attendance, of course, being 
a mere matter of etiquette and diplomacy. 

The ball at the governor's — Marshal MacMahon, 
Duke of Magenta — was especially brilliant and 
curious. Only "Fairyland," or the "Arabian 
Nights' Entertainments " — to use a well-worn 
simile — could present anything half so dazzling 
and beautiful as the scene of the courtyard trans- 
formed into a ball-room, its pillars twined with 
wreaths of foliage, its upper gallery adorned with 
masses of tropical plants and flowers ; chandeliers, 
painted lanterns, and wax-tapers flinging a blaze 
of light over the whole. Then there were other 
gatherings of a different and more business-like 
character ; a fancy fair, held also in a Moorish 
house (the bishop's palace), the various stalls offer- 
ing a most fascinating appearance under the arches 
surrounding the court, which were decorated for 
the occasion with gilding and colour in true native 
style. There was a grand banquet, too, given 
by the colonists to the great capitalists, Messrs. 



t 



1 88 LAST WIXTEB IN ALGERIA. 

Talabot and Fremy, just then visiting Algiers on 
a tour of inspection through the country. 

Various rumours were afloat of the gigantic 
speculations they were about to set on foot. 
Everyone expected great things from their visit : 
they were to buy up everything ; undertake every 
kind of exj)ensive scheme ; construct tanks ; re- 
claim hectare upon hectare of overgrown jungle ; 
pour their capital into the country, upon which a 
new era was to open ; and, finally, push the Go- 
vernment to grant everything the colonists desired. 
The excitement was tremendous; even in the 
hotel they created no inconsiderable commotion. 
The public reading-room was given up as their 
salon ; our table-d'hote robbed of its greatest 
dainties; while at all hours of the day the cor- 
ridors were thronged by men in black attire, 
conspiring together with an air of importance — 
the deputations and members of committees, &c, 
waiting for a word with the great man. I do not 
think after all, however, much was done in the 
way of business in the neighbourhood of Algiers. 
There was a good deal of nibbling at various 
schemes, but all that transpired as an accomplished 
fact was the purchase of the Jardin d'Essai ; and 



OUR LAST DAT. 



people's faces looked rather blank as the partners 
and their suite went off to the more promising 
city of Bone, where they had already largely in- 
vested. 

At length the last day of our four months' 
sojourn at Algiers arrived. We had bidden a 
sorrowful farewell to kind friends, and a sorrowful 
farewell also to favourite spots we might never 
gaze on again. We had seen the last sunset glow 
on the Atlas Mountains, and were to behold the 
sunrise behind them for the last time to-morrow. 
We had taken, too, our last daily walk ; and, per- 
haps, what I look back on with most regret of all 
the charms of Algiers are those delicious early 
strolls in the cool freshness of the morning, rising 
at gun-fire and going through the deserted streets 
far away into the country up the Sahel Hills. 
There we used to wander under the olives and 
pines, or out on the open, breezy slopes, the blue 
iris blossoming at our feet, the tall candelabra- 
like stem of the withered aloe-flower cutting 
the distant horizon of the Mediterranean — a 
tremulous glitter on every dew-charged leaf, a 
sweet, indescribable perfume floating round us 
from the aromatic plants crushed by our chance 



190 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



footsteps. Picture after picture unrolls itself be- 
fore me as I write, and I must lay down the pen, 
lest the temptation to word-painting prove too 
strong. 



i 



FAREWELL TO ALGIERS. 191 



CHAPTEE XL 

COASTING ALONG. 

Adieux to Arab friends — An odd character — An old pirate 
city — Legend of a modern Nebuchadnezzar — A very holy 
man — The earthquake at Djijelly. 

At eleven a.m. on the 23rd of March, we were 
standing on the deck of the "Cydnus," one of 
the Messageries steamers, bound for Philippeville, 
on the coast of the province of Constantine. As 
the last boats put off from the vessel, carrying 
back friends who had accompanied us on board, a 
single boat approached rowing as fast as possible. 
There was just time for my husband to run down 
the steps to give a parting shake of the hand to 
its occupant, a Moorish acquaintance, and to bring 
me his farewell token, a sprig of orange-blossom, 
the Eastern emblem of friendship. There was the 
waving of a handkerchief, the fluttering of a bur- 
nous, and, as we leant over the side of the ship, 



192 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



the last person we recognised on trie quay was 
our friend Sidi Ibrahim, stalking away with that 
dignified rnien which his friends used laughingly 
to declare he carried to excess even for an 
Oriental. My sprig of orange-blossom served to 
recall in a moment of time many a pleasant hour, 
and its perfume has since been associated for ever 
with the memory of Algiers. 

Meantime most affecting adieux had been ex- 
changed between our travelling companion (a Ger- 
man) and an Arab friend of his. The latter was 
greatly distressed. Poor fellow ! he was to have 
accompanied us on our tour, and have conducted 
us to pay his father a few days' visit down in the 
south on the borders of the desert. Unfortunately, 
about a week before our departure a report 
reached us of cholera in these regions — no un- 
founded rumour, as we learnt afterwards on good 
authority nearer the spot — and we reluctantly had 
to relinquish the plan. Ben Ahmed was bitterly 
disappointed. He would not believe that the reason 
we gave was the real one. He was brought to us 
one day to be assured of the impossibility of our 
visiting a place where the cholera was, and I shall 
never forget this fine, tall, singularly handsome man, 



BEN AHMED. 



193 



with about the most perfect teeth I ever beheld, 
sitting in our drawing-room, tears pouring down 
his bronzed cheeks on to his magnificent black 
beard, — tears which he did not attempt to wipe 
away as he listened to my explanation. He 
evidently disbelieved altogether in the existence 
of the cholera ; and his feelings of attachment to 
our German acquaintance, together with his pride 
at the thought of showing what a big man he was 
in his own country,Jiad both received a severe 
wound. I tried to make him understand how 
grieved and disappointed we all were at being- 
obliged to give up the visit to his family — that it 
was no distrust of him — no want of friendship on 

Monsieur Z 's part, &c, &c. ; but I fear he was 

only partially satisfied, his knowledge of French 
modes of expression, unlike that of our friend the 
Caid, being rather limited. In fact, he was not 
in any way an educated or polished man, but 
belonged to a tribe in the interior, and had first 
come to Algiers only two years ago for some 
reason or other, and had not returned home since. 
It must have been a strong emotion which could 
force a stoical Arab to this betrayal of feeling. 
I believe, however, he was considered a little 





194 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



" cracked " in Algiers. He certainly was unlike 
the rest of his countrymen in manner, and had 
an unpleasant habit of staring and smiling at 
complete strangers. At the official balls which 
he attended like many natives, or at the afternoon 
band in the Place du Grouvernement, one was 
sure, whichever way one turned, to see his white 
teeth gleaming in a broad grin, and his eyes 
glaring fixedly. ]?ut he w r as a kind, warm- 
hearted creature, and most ^evotedly attached to 

Monsieur Z . 

Their acquaintance began one day on the quay 
soon after the arrival of the latter. He had just 
given rather a large donation of silver to a poor 
crippled native, when Ben Ahmed, who was pass- 
ing by, suddenly started forward and accosted 
him, saying, " Toi bon homme — toi donnes aux 
pauvres — moi aimes toi;" and forthwith joined 
him in his walk, asked him all about himself and 
his family, and accompanied him home, with 
many professions of esteem and liking. From 
that moment he was scarcely ever out of the 
house, and seemed never happy away from 
his new friend. One day he showed Madame 
Z- a very handsome burnous he was wearing, 



A TRUE GIFT. 



195 



and asked her, if she admired it ; to which of 
course she assented, when he immediately took it 
off and threw it round her shoulders. In vain 
she tried to refuse it, and on her wishing next day 
to return it, knowing he was not rich, she w r as 
assured by all her French acquaintances that this 
was quite out of the question, as it was the highest 
honour an Arab could pay any one, giving them a 
handsome garment off his own person or a valuable 
article in daily use — stich as a favourite sabre or 
pistol — the most natural, and no doubt the ori- 
ginal, form of bestowing a gift ; far more generous 
than our sophisticated, if convenient mode of 
giving not only something we do not want, but 
something we never had or cherished, and which 
we buy merely at the moment. There was a 
slight attendant inconvenience, however, in the 
necessity of having the burnous washed before 
wearing, and accounting to the donor for its 
temporary disappearance. Some little time after 

Monsieur Z presented Ben Ahmed with a 

pair of richly-chased pistols, which he at first 
accepted without hesitation, but returned almost 
directly, saying haughtily, "Moi donne burnous— 
toi donne pistolets ; non, non, moi ne veux pas." 



196 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



It was only after repeated assertions that the one 
gift bore no reference whatever to the other, and 
the strongest asseverations that the pistols were a 
simple gage d'amitie, that he consented at length 
to accept them. 

Ben Ahmed was a great devot, and whatever 
might be going on or whoever might be present, 
always made the appropriate genuflections and 
went through his devotions when one of the five 
daily appointed Mohammedan hours of prayer 

arrived. Once Madame Z , coming suddenly 

into her drawing-room not knowing he was there, 
found him kneeling, bowing, and kissing the floor 
with all his usual fervour, while exactly behind 
and unseen by him, with a face as solemn as a 
judge, her youngest child, a little girl of four, 
was imitating gravely and elaborately every 
movement, perfectly guiltless of any intention to 

ridicule. Madame Z fled precipitately, as 

much for the child's sake as her own ; the scene 
was too ludicrous. Ben Ahmed professed, more- 
over, to be descended from the Prophet Ma- 
hommed, a descent claimed, indeed, with more or 
less justice by numbers of his race, whose name is 
legion. He evinced a dislike to the French and 



AN AWKWARD MEETING. 



197 



their innovations, and a more than usually strong 
attachment to his own religion and customs. 

Ignorant of those peculiarities, Monsieur Z , 

in the early part of their acquaintance, once invited 
to dinner the same day Ben Ahmed and a neigh- 
bouring caid of the province, a new man of low 
birth but good education, owing his position to 
the French, and of course devoted to their in- 
terests. The two guests regarded each other 

askance, and on Monsieur Z trying to draw 

them into conversation, Ben Ahmed, to his sur- 
prise, shook his head, and saying, " Moi ne pas 
parler Franfais," persisted in pretending not to 
understand a word of the conversation, which 
was carried on in French for the benefit of two 
or three Europeans present, who were infinitely 
amused by the studied imperturbability of his 
countenance whatever subject was discussed. As 
for the caid, he simply ignored Ben Ahmed alto- 
gether as a savage not worth noticing. Once, 
indeed, it was feared that this state of things was 
going too far, for, among other topics, that of 
Mahommed's family being introduced, Monsieur 

Z remarked, looking towards Ben Ahmed, 

and hoping to induce him to break silence, that 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



he was a Sherif, a great family descended from 
Mahommed. The caid smiled incredulously, and 
answered, " The mule savs he has the horse for 
his father, but he forgets to say he has the ass 
for his mother." The calm impassiveness of Ben 
Ahmed's face as he gazed stolidly at the speaker, 
was, as all declared, a sight worth looking at. 

Next day he remarked, smiling to Mons. Z , 

"Moi un mulet!" "But why did you pretend 
not to understand, and so let him insult you ?" 
was the answer. 66 Oh, lui canaille ! moi bonne 
famille, moi pas parler avec ces gens-la !" Poor 
Ben Ahmed ! For the second time I saw the 
tears in his eyes as he clasped the hand of his 
friend, and went down the side of the ship with 
the little band come to speed us on our way. 

I must now return from this digression to our- 
selves, left on board the " Cydnus." It was a 
lovely bright morning, and never did Algiers look 
fairer than as we took our long, last look. Long, 
indeed, for the town remained in sight many 
hours, fading away gradually until it floated like 
a faint white cloud on the distant horizon. As 
we steamed out of the harbour, and by degrees 
gained a comprehensive view of the whole town 



LAST LOOK AT ALGIERS. 



199 



and neighbourhood, the eye lingered fondly on 
many a well-known spot, marked where the oft- 
trodden path dipped down into the hidden valley 
or lost itself in the fold of the hill-side, where 
again it rose to sight at some never-to-be-forgotten 
point of view. One tried to realize how the now 
familiar scene had struck one at first. It was 
like gazing on the face of a friend and striving to 
recall how he had looked as a new acquaintance. 
Strange contrast ! Features that once caught the 
attention are now passed over unheeded, while many 
a latent line has grown distinct, and the whole has 
gained an expression altogether different. 

We crossed the bay, making straight almost for 
Cape Matifou, which seemed only a stone's throw 
from us. Jt was from a fort on this point that a 
cannon-shot used, in the days of the Turkish 
regency, to announce to the Algerians the arrival 
of a new pacha, whose predecessor — always sup- 
posing the rare case of his being alive ! — used to 
leave the palace, at the sound, and descend into 
private life and a small hostelry on the port where 
he awaited his departure. Cape Matifou, only 
renowned at present for the beautiful shells in a 
little bay to the east, is a flat tongue of land ; but 



200 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



i 



soon the ground rose into mountains and precipices 
as we coasted along within a couple of miles of 
the shores of Kabylia, gaining glimpses of its well- 
cultivated valleys, of its tiled white villages, and 
of higher and more rugged mountain peaks in the 
distance. 

At five in the evening we reached Dellis, and 
anchored to take in cargo. Small, uninteresting- 
looking town as it is at present, it was one of the 
numerous flourishing Eoman colonies of the first 
centuries of the Christian era. A few inconsider- 
able remains of cisterns and ramparts, a few mosaics 
and coins dug out from its ruins, are all that now 
exist to speak of the former glories of Eusuccurus. 
iu There is a miserable Arab quarter and an un- 

picturesque French town, but its commerce of 
oil and dried fruits of West Kabylia still gives 
it importance. The Algerian market is supplied 
with white grapes from the slopes outside, care- 
fully cultivated by the Kaby]es. 

Next morning we found ourselves in the beau- 
tiful Bay of Bougie. It is one of the best of the 
many bad ports of Algeria, the unhappy traveller 
generally finding himself nearly as much tossed 
about in harbour as in the open sea. Mountains 



BOUGIE. 



201 



seemed to close us in on every side, so that one 
almost fancied oneself on a lake. High head- 
lands shelter it from many of the prevailing winds, 
while the lofty hill, on whose lowest projections 
the town rises in an amphitheatre, sinks towards 
the south into a valley which is, so to speak, the 
highroad via Setif, to the farthest parts of the 
Sahara. Bougie is also the centre of the fertile 
region of Great Kabylia. What wonder that, with 
these natural advantages, this now humble little 
town enjoyed for centuries during the middle ages 
an extensive commerce with all the southern na- 
tions of Europe. Among its exports, so high a 
reputation was acquired by its wax that the words 
Bougie, Bugia, applied at first to the candles made 
from it, passed at length into the French, Spanish, 
and Italian languages as the name of wax-candles 
generally. To this day a beehive figures in the 
arms of the city. The place was almost fully as 
much celebrated, however, for its piracy as its 
commerce, which did not seem to interfere with 
one another, although the merchants trading in 
its port might have almost heard the clanking of 
the chains of the Christian captives as they went 
forth in bands to labour at their daily task. 



202 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



Bougie first came into existence as the Eoman 
colony of Saldae ; then, after passing into the hands 
of Juba II. of Mauritania (the architect of the 
Tomb of the Christian) flourished as a Christian 
see till the arrival of the Vandals. « From their 
ravages it rose to its highest splendour under the 
Arab rule, as Bedjaia, after the Berber tribe in- 
habiting the neighbourhood, being rebuilt by Ebn 
Nusseer in the eleventh century with considerable 
magnificence. 

One of those moral stories, of which Orientals 
are so fond, is told of this Ebn Nusseer. Puffed up, 
like another Nebuchadnezzar, with his own great- 
ness, he one day took with him out in a boat into 
the midst of the bay, a holy marabout, and bid him 
behold the glories of Bougie, his own creation ! 
The saint, however, chid him for the ambition and 
love of luxury which were at the bottom of his 
passion for building. " Thou forgettest," said he, 
"the instability of human things; all this thy 
work shall crumble to dust, and the fame which 
thou thinkest eternal perish with it." Ebn Nusseer, 
nevertheless, appearing deaf to this exhortation, 
the holy man took off his burnous, and held it 
up in front of the sultan, shutting out the sight 



A NOVEL METHOD OF FISHING. 



203 



of Bougie. Through this curtain, miraculously 
rendered transparent, appeared the Bougie of 
modern days, ruined and almost deserted. Ebn 
Nusseer, horrified at this prophetip vision, became 
insane, abdicated in favour of his son, and disap- 
peared suddenly one night. During four years his 
faithful adherents sought him in vain. At last 
some fishermen, landing by chance on a small 
barren island off the precipitous coast near Cape 
Carbon, at the northern extremity of the Bay of 
Bougie, discovered a half-naked emaciated ancho- 
rite. It was Ebn Nusseer. Tradition goes on to 
explain his existence on this solitary rock, by 
relating a further miracle, viz., that every time he 
plunged his hand into the sea, a fish came and 
attached itself to each of his fingers. All efforts 
to induce the now holy man to return to his 
kingdom were fruitless ; he persisted in continuing 
his isolated life, and died at length on his rock in 
the full odour of sanctity. 

The prophecy of the marabout was indeed ful- 
filled, for the conquest of Bougie by the Turks, 
some forty years after their taking possession of 
Algiers, put an end to its prosperity. The Alge- 
rians, jealous of its commerce and its piracy — 



204 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



which latter, especially, they wished to keep in 
their own hands — effectually suppressed both; 
and, by degrees, nearly the whole town sank into 
the ruinous condition in which the French found 
it. Its inhabitants, however, with the superstition 
of the uneducated, ascribe its fall to the corruption 
of true believers by contact with the infidel Euro- 
peans, and relate the following legend : A mara- 
bout, whose miraculous powers his sceptical fellow- 
townsmen dared to doubt, having partaken of a 
fowl which they had neglected to kill in the pre- 
scribed way, at the conclusion of the repast laid 
his finger on the dish, while pronouncing the 
customary words, " Praised be Allah !" At this 
holy contact, the half-devoured fowl reappeared 
alive, flapping its wings and crowing like a cock. 
The saint, having thus asserted his supernatural 
powers, further gratified his pious soul by solemnly 
uttering the following curse against the whole 
town : " Your old and your honourable men shall 
beg their bread, and your young men die of 
misery." 

As the steamer was to remain in harbour several 
hours we landed about six A.M. to explore the 
place. We noticed a good many Eoman and Arab 



ARAB GAMINS. 



205 



remains ; among the latter a large and very- 
picturesque archway close upon the shore, the old 
Watergate of the town. Of course it had its mys- 
terious tradition, and it was said, when it turned 
on its hinges in former days, the sound used to Jbe 
heard at Djijelly, some forty miles distant. Hear- 
ing the view was very fine from the summit of the 
Gouraya, a hill rising 2000 feet behind the town, 
we looked about for some one to show us the way 
up, and w T ere immediately pounced upon by two 
small boys of about ten years old. Both insisted 
upon accompanying us, and amused us not a little 
by their pranks and their broken French. They 
told us a good many monkeys lived in the caves 
in the highest part of the hill ; and as the urchins 
scrambled about the rocks in the wildest spirits, 
chattering as fast as possible, we remarked to 
them jocosely, and quite innocently, that they 
were monkeys themselves ; an observation they 
resented indignantly, not at all seeming to take it 
in the sense we English do, but growing very 
fierce, and retorting that we were monkeys just as 
much as they. However, they soon calmed down, 
and recovered their good humour. They were left 
in charge of me while the gentlemen ascended 



206 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



the last few hundred feet, which were very steep, 
and they occupied themselves in throwing at a 
mark made of one stone placed on the top of • 
another. Their aim was wonderfully accurate, 
and their patience inexhaustible ; but more re- 
markable still was the gentleness and good temper 
with which they played together. Not a rough 
word nor a cross look escaped them ; they might 
have been carefully brought up little gentlemen, 
instead of poor, street gamins. My companions 
returned in about half an hour, not much repaid 
for their extra exertion, as the view gained but 
little by greater elevation. They had been into 
the old fort at the top, capable of holding about 
200, but — a somewhat exaggerated example of 
the Algerian system of dividing the forces of the 
army — garrisoned by two men ! 

At Bougie we had intended leaving the steamer 
and riding across the mountains to Setif, distant 
some two or three days' march; but the same 
spurious kind of cholera which prevented our 
accepting the invitation of Ben Ahmed to visit his 
family, was prevalent in this part of Kabylia also. 
We had nothing for it but to stick to the good 
ship " Cydnus," where, as the weather was fine, 



EARTH Q UAEE A T DJIJELL Y. 



207 



our lot was not a bad one ; but coasting along, 
partly by night, one does not gain of course the 
same idea of a country as when riding through it. 
The exit from the harbour was very beautiful, 
Bougie lay amid its gardens and vineyards at the 
end of the bay, golden in the sunshine ; the 
ferruginous-tinted cliffs of Cape Bouak, close 
beside us, standing out a flame-like red against the 
cool grey shadows of the more distant precipices 
of Cape Carbon, which, descending abruptly down 
into the sea, terminates in a natural arch pierced 
by the waves. 

Steaming along in full sight of the mountains 
and singularly picturesque shore, we reached Dji- 
jelly about three p.m. — a mere handful of houses 
built on the site of the old town, utterly destroyed 
by the earthquake of August 21, 1855, confined 
almost to the province of Constantine, and but 
slightly sensible at Algiers. The loss of life, 
happily, was very small; but both Djijelly and 
Collo, a neighbouring seaport, became speedily a 
mass of ruins. At Philippeville, further east, con- 
siderable damage was done to the barracks and 
church ; the private houses, less lofty, were only 
slightly cracked. This is the only earthquake 



208 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



since the French occupation of the country which 
at all approached in violence that of the 2nd of 
January last ; but the loss of life was so immea- 
surably less that the alarm was comparatively 
trifling. 

We awakened on the morning of the 26th in 
the so-called harbour of Philippe ville, that is to 
say, on the opposite side of the open bay close to 
Stora, from whence half an hour's boat or carriage 
takes one across to Philippeville, the "Terminus" 
of the Constantine diligences. Three millions of 
francs have already been spent in vain endeavours 
to form a port at Philippeville itself, and there is 
every probability that as many more might be 
spent without any result. There is too little depth 
of water, and that little has been further choked' 
up by the breakwater of a useless harbour, too 
small and too shallow for anything but fishing- 
smacks. The full tide of the Mediterranean sets 
in against this part of the coast, and the only 
shelter is from the north-west wind. One puzzles 
one's brain to think where the three millions have 
disappeared, as one often does wonder in Algeria, 
how the public works engulph so much money 
with such small results. Some such reasoning 



FIRST SIGHT OF CONS TAN TINE. 



209 



seems to have passed through the mind of the 
Emperor himself, during his visit ; for when he 
was shown the little harbour at Sidi Ferruch, the 
place where the French first landed, he is reported 
to have remarked, drily, " C'est bien peu de chose 
pour tant d'argent." So long, however, as such 
works are put under the superintendence of ill- 
paid, ill-chosen subordinates by a military govern- 
ment, whose first thoughts and best men are 
naturally devoted to its own especial concerns, so 
long will vessels have to seek the open sea in 
foul weather, as at Stora and Philippeville — so 
long will the public money, so hardly to be spared, 
be squandered fruitlessly. 

At Philippeville — a thoroughly French town, 
containing a few remains of its Eoman ancestor, 
Rusicada, a large and splendid colony — we took 
the night diligence for Constantine, having unfor- 
tunately just missed that which went by day, and 
not being able to waste time in waiting. Next 
morning at dawn I was roused by the cry of 
66 Constantine !" and, eagerly peering through the 
half-darkness, saw, looming far above against the 
sky, a huge line of precipice, jagged towards the 
right by the roofs and gables of houses, cleft from 

p 



2IO 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



top to bottom towards the left by a dark chasm. 
Mysteriously the whole mass rose out of the 
morning mist, which, silvered by the setting full 
moon, floated at its base, concealing the valley 
across which it lay. No after- view ever approached 
in grandeur this vision of the morning. It was 
Constantine in its inmost essence, divested of all 
accidents of time, of all details, Roman, Arab, or 
French — Constantine, as it must have appeared 
from its earliest existence, as it would stand to the 
end of ages — Belad el Haoua — " the City of the 
Air." 

Nearly an hour's slow toil brought us to a 
level with the town, and across the narrow neck of 
land which is its only natural approach. Here, 
in 1837, was placed the battery where Damre- 
mont, the general in command, was killed, and 
which breached the walls for the assault of the 
next day, when under Marshal Val^e the place 
was finally carried. Having entered by the Porte 
Valee, we found ourselves in a shabby-looking 
" place," half native, half European ; the stalls of 
a market occupied the centre, the sellers still 
sleeping beside them. Getting out of the dili- 
gence we made our way among the recumbent 



A SAVOURY HOTEL, 



211 



figures and the heaps of vegetables, to a native 
bazaar — a long, narrow, covered street or passage, 
with shops on each side occupied by Jewish mer- 
chants, who were just beginning to take their 
early cup of coffee and pipe, sitting cross-legged 
on the counter. Suddenly our guide darted into 
a small doorway, which we found to our surprise 
was the entrance to the hotel. The indescribable 
smell of an Oriental bazaar — a mixture of perfume 
and dirt — hung about its precincts. The house 
was an old native one, adapted — and very ill- 
adapted — to European use. However, such as it 
was, we were glad to rest our wearied bones, and 
recruit our strength, previous to going out on an 
exploring expedition. 



212 



LAST WINTER IX ALGERIA. 



CHAPTEE XII. 

THE CITY OF THE AIE. 

Constantine — Diligence difficulties — The Arab quarter — The 
Bey's palace — Turkish frescoes and orthodox art — The 
chasm — Search for Eoman cisterns. 

Haying accomplished our arrival at Constantine, 
the next step was to make arrangements to get 
away again, and pursue our journey south. The 
destination of every traveller in the eastern pro- 
vince is Biskra, an oasis in the Desert of Sahara. 
You may go further if you like, but you must not 
stop short of this goal. " You are going to the 
Desert, of course?" is the first remark of everyone 
you meet en route. " Have you been to the 
Desert?" you are asked on your return. Woe 
betide you if you cannot answer in the affirma- 
tive. Everything else that you have done goes 
for nothing. You may even say you have seen 
other deserts, but you are assured there is some- 



A USEFUL OFFICIAL. 



213 



thing special about this. The French, like Puff 
of his thunder, talk proudly of " Notre Desert." 

A little of the edge is, however, taken off the 
romance of the journey, by the fact of its being 
accomplished by diligence. It was about this 
very diligence we wanted intelligence. We knew 
that the journey consisted of two stages. Some 
twelve hours in one diligence to the military 
station of Batna, and from thence from twelve 
to fifteen hours in another, to Biskra. But when 
did these diligences respectively start? did they 
correspond, &c. ? In vain at the Bureau of the 
Messageries at Philippeville, we had sought in- 
formation. Over the door was painted in large 
letters, " Diligences pour Constantine, Batna et 
Biskra." " We wish to take the coupe as far as 
Biskra/' was our announcement on entering. 
" Impossible, Monsieur I" answered the official, 
with a polite smile and bow ; "I do not know 
what day the diligence goes from Constantine, 
but you can take your places from here as far as 
that place." " Surely you know when your own 
carriage starts !" " Well, but we have another 
bureau at Constantine; wait, Monsieur, till you 
get there, and you will learn everything." " But 



2I 4 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



we want to get on quickly, and the coupe may be 
taken when we arrive." " True," he remarked, 
with a sympathizing but puzzled air. Suddenly, 
howeyer, a bright inspiration seized him, and he 
exclaimed, "Shall I telegraph in your name to 
ask when our diligence leaves for Batna?" Of 
course we gladly assented, and thus learnt it 
started every night, and were able to secure 
seats. But about the further journey from Batna 
to Biskra it was hopeless to seek information. 
" It is another service," was one official's decisive 
answer. A man who did not know when the 
diligence of his own company started could 
scarcely be expected to be better informed about 
the concerns of another company. " But you 
are in correspondence ?" was all we mildly ven- 
tured to remark. 66 Yes, that is true ; but, Mon- 
sieur," he repeated, insinuatingly, " give yourself 
the trouble, as I said, to inquire at our Constan- 
tine bureau, and you will learn everything." 

Well, here we were at Constantine, and accord- 
ingly proceeded to the bureau, and asked how we 
should get on from Batna to Biskra — what day 
the diligences left ? having heard they only started 
twice or three times a week. " Ah, that is exactly 



CONTRADICTORY INTELLIGENCE. 215 



what I do not know," answered the clerk ; " it 
seems to me I was told something about it last 
week ; I daresay I may have a letter somewhere." 
There was a great search among his papers for 
nearly five minutes, but with no result. " Stay," 
he resumed, " it goes Monday and Friday. No," 
counting on his fingers, " Wednesday, or is it 
Tuesday" . . . " Monsieur," interrupted a rough- 
looking bystander, " I know all about it ; it goes 
Thursday and Sunday." " Mais non, Charles, tu 
as tort," responded the clerk ; " it cannot be 
Sunday because of the mail." Whereupon a 
long and somewhat heated argument ensued. 
At length the same bright thought which struck 
the Philippeville clerk moved his Constantine 
brother to exclaim, " Shall I telegraph ?" The 
answer to the despatch proved both parties to be 
in the wrong, the diligence leaving Batna Tuesdays 
and Saturdays ! 

The above is a specimen of the complicated 
difficulties we had to contend with throughout 
our journey, and which have taken the place 
of the romantic dangers attending the route in 
bygone years. It is but a mild specimen, too; 
for, whenever conflicting interests were concerned, 



2l6 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



false information was unblushingly substituted for 
mere stupidity, and the existence of roads, dili- 
gences, and inns flatly denied. Having settled 
these prosaic but necessary details, we gladly 
turned our backs upon bureaux and diligences, 
and all the unpoetical machinery of civilized tra- 
velling, and plunged into the old Arab town, where 
everything exists just as it did in the time of the 
Beys. It was quite refreshing to get out of reach 
of modern life for a while. 

Unlike Algiers, the native quarter at Constan- 
tine is thoroughly Oriental, and unstamped by any 
French impress. We turned down one narrow 
street after another without meeting a single Euro- 
pean. The buyers and sellers in the markets and 
shops were equally natives, all wilder looking, less 
affected by contact with civilization than at Algiers. 
Even the turbaned Moor was a rarity, and only 
women of the very lowest classes were to be seen, 
jealously wrapped in their blue haiks, and hurry- 
ing along close to the wall. In return, the Arab 
in his burnous, the negro, and the ragged Kabyle, 
thronged the streets, sometimes making it diffi- 
cult to force a passage; while, at the fountains, 
side by side with hideous old negresses, we noticed 



SHOEMAKERS. 



217 



some really beautiful and graceful Jewish girls, a 
pleasant contrast to their ill-favoured looking, 
clumsily-inade sisters at Algiers. 

The shoemakers of Constantine are renowned all 
over the province. No Arab would think of provid- 
ing himself with a chaussure elsewhere, any more 
than a Frenchwoman w r ould buy a bonnet except 
in Paris. We passed between long rows of shoe- 
makers' stalls, wondering where there were feet 
enough to wear all the shoes. A good pair, such 
as a well-dressed respectable Arab would buy, 
costs six francs, we were told by the guide kindly 
lent us by some French acquaintance. The price 
seemed rather high, and w T e received the informa- 
tion doubtingly. From the shoemakers we turned 
down to the curriers' quarters, at the edge of the 
precipices overhanging the river. Brawny-looking 
men were staggering along under a load of hides 
tanned to the colour of their own complexions; 
thousands of skins were spread out to dry, none 
too many though for the great leather trade of 
the place, which, besides shoes, comprises all 
kinds of objects made of that material, such as 
saddlery, &c. 

Another industry is the weaving of burnouses 



218 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



and carpets of a coarse but durable descrip- 
tion ; indeed, almost every useful art is here 
practised, and commerce of all kinds is very 
active, Constantine having been from time imme- 
morial the great market where the grain and 
cattle of the plains of the Tell are exchanged for 
the wool and dates of the Sahara, and where the 
inhabitants of the country seek such necessaries 
as their own hands cannot so well or so cheaply 
supply. Before the advent of the French, the 
inhabitants of Constantine comprised some of the 
wealthiest and highest families of the land, and 
even now are of quite a different class to the 
mixed races of the sea-ports. 

In the time of the Turks the province and 
town were governed by a Bey delegated by the 
Dey of Algiers, whose business, of course, was to 
make as much out of the people as possible. The 
last one, Hadj Ahmed, seems to have been a 
proficient in the art. We visited his palace (now 
occupied by the general governing the province, 
and his staff), to construct which he quietly de- 
molished all the neighbouring houses, and then 
plundered the richest dwellings in the town 
to provide for its decoration. The result is a 



A SIEGE WITHOUT BESIEGERS. 



219 



fairy-like structure of colonnades and courts, 
enclosing delicious gardens and fountains, and 
reminding one of the Seville houses with their 
numerous "patios" rather than of the confined 
style of those at Algiers, which, with one or two 
rare exceptions, have but a single court. Old 
Eoman columns support the arcades, and very 
beautiful Italian tiles cover the lower part of 
the walls, whose upper portion, with that curious 
mixture of barbarism which disfigures Oriental 
taste, is decorated with the most grotesque frescoes 
of perfectly archaic design and execution. Along 
one wall is depicted the town of Algiers engaged 
in a naval combat with a ghost-like fleet in the 
harbour. Not a single human being is visible, in 
strict accordance with Mussulman precept, but 
the cannonade nevertheless seems to progress 
merrily, to judge from the numbers of big black 
wafers representing cannon balls, which are scat- 
tered about in all directions, considerably larger 
in diameter than the fat maggot-shaped cannons, 
reposing each in a separate ship, like a baby in 
a cradle, or leaning helplessly forward in rows, 
over the parapets of the town. The young officer 
who was our cicerone bade us remark the white 



220 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



flag of the besieging vessels, an ominous prophecy 
of the arrival not many years later of the French 
fleet, which, at the time of the conquest of Algiers, 
still bore the white Bourbon flag. 

Interesting as the old city of Constantine is, 
and curious as are the sights of its interior, 
whether animate or inanimate, it is the posi- 
tion of the place which is so remarkable, and 
which, with the single exception of Eonda 
in Spain, is, I believe, unparalleled in the 
world. It is situated on a lofty triangular 
peninsula of rock, some 2000 feet above the 
sea-level, separated on two sides from the sur- 
rounding mountains by the deep but narrow 
chasm, at the bottom of which flows the River 
Rummel, from 600 to 800 feet beneath. On the 
third and northern side it faces the valley along 
which we approached, its precipices losing them- 
selves in the green slopes and gardens at their 
feet ; while it is connected with the mainland (so 
to speak) naturally, by the narrow isthmus or 
ridge over which our diligence had passed, and, 
artificially, on the opposite side of the town, by a 
splendid bridge, erected over the ruins of the 
ancient one. 



THE ANCIENT GIRT A. 



221 



The Constantine of the present day is almost 
wholly included within the walls surrounding 
the above promontory, and lias, a population 
of only 30,000 Natives, and 6000 Euro- 
peans, together with a garrison of 5000. But 
in olden times, when under the name of Cirta 
(the Numidian for rock), it was the capital of 
the kingdom of Syphax, of Massinissa, and their 
successors, and later of a flourishing Eoman 
colony ; when it figured in the pages of Livy, 
Strabo, and Sallust, it extended across the isthmus, 
and ail over the neighbouring heights. Monsieur 
Cherbonneau, its learned historian, has laboriously 
but distinctly traced the remains of an exterior 
city much larger than that of the interior, and 
even the casual observer may distinguish at in- 
tervals fragments of masonry and half-imbedded 
columns extending a long distance from the pre- 
sent town, 

In order to judge of the position of the city, 
and fully to appreciate the grandeur of its site, 
it was necessary, of course, to get outside; and 
we accordingly proceeded straight through to 
the opposite side to that where we entered, and 
crossed the river by the bridge, El Kantara (the 



222 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



Arabic word for bridge). It was at this point that 
the unsuccessful attack of 1836 was made. The 
French, under Clauzel, occupying the heights of 
Mansourah, south of the city, endeavoured, as we 
afterwards did at Delhi, to blow up the gates, 
having been erroneously informed that internal 
dissensions would prevent the post being defended. 
The disastrous repulse of the night of the 23rd 
of October, however, soon convinced them of the 
contrary, and the morning of the 24th saw the 
commencement of the masterly retreat in which 
Changarnier so distinguished himself. The fol- 
lowing year the town was taken on the other side, 
and, twenty years after its occupation, part of the 
old bridge having given way, it was necessary to 
blow up the remainder in order to make room for 
the new one, the site being the only one where a 
good foundation was to be obtained. 

Having crossed the bridge, we ascended the 
heights on which stands the College Arabe, a 
magnificent edifice, from whence we could see 
the whole town outspread before us. But for 
its natural protection in the deep precipitous 
chasm of the Eummel, it would have been an 
easy prey, as it is commanded on two sides by 



THE RAVINE OF THE RUMMEL. 



223 



the adjacent hills. The natives say its ground 
plan is in the form of a burnous, the hood 
being marked by the projecting corner upon 
which stands the Kusbah. Descending from 
our commanding position we followed the edge 
of the ravine, looking down into its depths, where 
one or two Arabs, washing, showed as small 
white specks. Scarcely a hundred yards across, 
and just on the same level as ourselves, stood the 
walls of the city; we could trace each stone of 
the old Eoman ramparts, we could count every 
stork perched on the housetops, we could hear the 
ham of the voices — nay, we might even have 
made our own audible, but nothing more — the 
chasm though narrow was none the less deep; 
its scarped precipices, on which rose the city walls, 
were rooted far down at the bottom of the abyss, 
their bases almost lost in the foreshortening per- 
spective. Besting on some jutting ledge, or diving 
into the dim depths below, were myriads of vul- 
tures, starlings, crows, storks, and kites of every 
species, uttering their shrill and varied cries as 
they darted hither and thither in search of their 
daily food. The whole refuse of the town being 
thrown over the walls, these useful birds, aided 



224 



LAST WINTER IN AIGEBIA. 



by the occasional rain-floods of the river, perform 
all the scavengering of the place. 

Having thus fixed the idea of depth well in 
our minds, we set off another morning to add 
to it that of height, so as to gauge the full 
grandeur of the rock Cirta. Leaving the town 
by the Porte Valee, where we had first entered, 
we retraced our way, making many short cuts 
down the steep slopes till we reached the Pont 
d'Aumale quite at the bottom of the valley. 
Here the view, though very fine and the one 
generally pointed out to travellers, was far inferior 
to what we discovered later. Crossing the bridge 
we turned back towards the city by a pathway 
rising along the right bank of the Eummel, and 
passing through gardens of almond and pome- 
granate. The path grew wilder, and it was 
with difficulty we forced our way among the 
tangled wood; but at length the most perfect 
view of all burst upon us, one which no tourist 
should fail to visit. Looking straight up the 
course of the river, the eye rests on a series 
of foaming cascades, which seem to spring 
immediately out of the gloomy recesses of 
the gigantic chasm, on the right-hand pre- 



NATURAL ARCHES. 



225 



cipices of which towers the city of Constan- 
tine. Far away in its blue depths is visible the 
outline of a natural arch flung across about 
half-way up the sides. Still ascending the river, 
w r e managed to cross back again on some stepping- 
stones, only possible in a dry season ; and clamber- 
ing up the banks by the powder-mill, found our- 
selves on a level with the top of the cascades and 
at the opening of the chasm. Here the bed of 
the river, an almost flat surface of rock, was 
nearly dry, much of the water having been 
turned off for mills on its way to the cascades. 
The sides of the ravine seemed to consist of two 
storeys, as it were : first a rocky w r alk some 300 
feet high; above this a coping of green grass, 
from which again a second line of precipices rose 
to the height of 300 or 400 feet. In some places 
the lower wall of rocks met overhead, forming 
several natural arches, on the widest of which 
the foundations of the bridge (El Kantara) are 
laid. 

We followed a pathway passing under the first 
arch, and looked through a vista of two or three 
more ; but the river, which was here narrower and 
deeper, left no room for us to get further. Above 

Q 



226 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



us rose the straight wall of rock so immediately 
overhead as to shut out all view of the summit. 
It was only at a turn of the ravine that we could 
distinguish, far away up, the ramparts of the city. 
Brilliantly white against a deep blue sky, they 
looked almost unreal, and like some impossible 
mediaeval city in the background of an old 
picture, towering over the heads of the spectators 
in the foreground, clear and distinct as if in the 
same plane. 

Eetracing our steps, we emerged from the 
ravine, and a hot climb up the slopes facing 
the valley, brought us back to the Isthmus; 
not without many stoppages, however, for our 
German companion, with the laborious con- 
scientiousness of his countrymen, insisted on 
minutely examining every vestige of Koman con- 
struction on our path. Unluckily he had read 
and heard of immense cisterns still existing some- 
where in the rocks, and he was determined upon 
discovering them. Ever and anon as we paused 
to breathe on our steep ascent, we missed him 
from beside us, when he would appear at the 
doorway of a mill, perhaps, apologizing to its be- 
wildered inhabitants with a countenance expres- 



SEARCH FOR THE CISTERNS. 



227 



sive of intense disappointment, and a coat much 
whitened with flour : or he would emerge covered 
with earth and rubbish from some small hole in 
the rock where quarrymen kept their tools. 
Next, perhaps, we beheld him, far above our 
heads clambering up to look into some crevice, or 
coming down with a run into a bed of nettles. 
Once he came back very wet about the ankles and 
very triumphant, having followed the course of a 
subterranean aqueduct, "which, you know, must 
have ended in a cistern," as he observed. But he 
was evidently not satisfied that he had seen " the 
real thing," for on our return to Constantine after 
our visit to the Desert we had to accompany him 
in another search after the cisterns. 

It was a cold raw day, — rain having fallen 
continuously during the previous week, and the 
mountains being sprinkled with snow. In an 
evil moment we allowed ourselves to be carried 
away by the contagion of his enthusiasm, and 
set off for the Kusbah, where he affirmed posi- 
tively the cisterns were. First we had to get 
permission to enter in company with a soldier, 
then we found he could onlv take us to a certain 
point, which was not where we wished to go, 



228 



LAST WINTER IX ALGERIA. 



and lie had to return to ask leave of the governor 
to proceed further. Half an hour's waiting on 
the parapets, facing the north in a wind nearly 
as cutting as that blowing in winter from the 
Guadaramas over the Palace Yard at Madrid, 
effectually cooled our ardour. At length, after 
many delays, we were ushered into the Arsenal 
Yard and commended to the care of a sous- 
lieutenant risen from the ranks. On expressing 
what our wish was, we were most politely assured 
that everything would be shown us. It was not 
"everything," but "one" thing that we wanted 
to see, still courtesy must be met by courtesy, 
and so we trudged up and down, and inspected 
big shot and bigger guns, &c, &c, always hoping 
to arrive at our cisterns but — " Now, Madame et 
Messieurs," our amiable guide kept exclaiming^ 
" I am going to show you — the garden of the 
commandant, — the salle d'armes," and so forth. 
Every now and then our Teutonic friend 
whispered the word " cisterns ?" interrogatively. 
" Mais vous verrez tout, Monsieur," was the answer, 
and on we went on our weary way. At the end 
of about an hour and a half we found ourselves 
back at the entrance-gate; the sous-lieutenant 



IGNOMINIOUS FAILURE. 



229 



in an attitude of farewell, with an air of having 
thoroughly done his duty to us, preparing his 
best bow. " Mais, Monsieur, les citernes," was our 
last appeal. " Ah ! oui certainement, Monsieur, 
si vous tenez a les voir, les voila," and stepping 
aside he motioned to a soldier to raise a trap- 
door just at our feet. " We have excellent water, 
and plenty of it. Will you go down, Monsieur ?" 
" These are the Roman cisterns, then ?" " Mais 
non, Monsieur, they were constructed by us/' 
with a look of pride. "Then where are the 
Roman cisterns ?" " Mais je n'en connais pas, 
Monsieur." The blank dismay of our travelling 
companion was beautiful to behold. He de- 
scended, however, to institute an antiquarian 
examination, with the faint hope of there being 
some mistake, but as he reappeared shortly, con- 
siderably crestfallen and considerably streaked 
with green mould, it was evident that even 
his most minute investigations had failed to 
discover the objects of our long and weary 
search. 

We left Constantine early the following morn- 
ing, and a few days later received reliable infor- 
mation that the Roman cisterns were really inside 



230 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



the arsenal, but that they had been repaired so 
thoroughly as to destroy every vestige of anti- 
quity. So we had no doubt seen them after all, 
which was bairn to our companion's feelings of 
disappointment ! 



THE GOOD GENIUS. 



231 



CHAPTEK XIII. 

AN OLD ROMAN TOWN. 

The " Akbar" of Constantine— A legend of Salah Bey— The 
Jews of Tougourt — Batna, the French camp — Lambessa, 
the town of the 3rd Legion — French sentiment — A luckless 
village — The Penitentiary — The soldier's couch. 

When wandering through the native quarter of 
Constantine, looking into its mosques, learning 
the origin of its various buildings, the name of 
one man seemed continually sounding in our ears ; 
and even in our journey south on the region of 
the oasis, the same name kept coming to the 
front, sometimes as that of a conqueror, sometimes 
as that of a benefactor — now reducing a rebellious 
tribe to obedience, now repartitioning the water 
for the irrigation of their land. Just as in Agra 
and its neighbourhood the Emperor Akbar's 
memory survives that of his predecessors and 
successors, so the name of Salah Bey still hangs 



232 LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 

about the city of Constantine. And the Bey, 
although no independent sovereign, but only a 
delegate, may well stand comparison with that 
just and enlightened potentate of the East in his 
striking genius for administration, — a rare quality 
enough among the Algerian Turks. Unlike also 
the generality of his countrymen in his position, 
he seemed to have the permanent good of the 
province more at heart than the filling of his own 
exchequer ; and his reign of two and twenty years 
was one long struggle against the prejudices of his 
age and the opposition of the ignorant and envious. 

The following story, showing the enlightened 
character of his government, is a proof not 
only of his moderation and justice, but of a 
knowledge of political economy which would be 
creditable to many a ruler in more civilized 
countries. A poor labourer was one day brought 
before him, who in ploughing a piece of ground 
belonging to the Beylik had turned up a pot of 
gold containing 10,000 dinars. Every one was 
clamorous with advice as to what should be done 
with the money. Some declared the whole of it 
ought to go into the Government coffers, having 
been found on Government property ; while others 



A LEGEND OF SALAH BEY. 



233 



generously decided that a trifling portion might 
be kept back from the Treasury, and conceded to 
the finder of the whole. The Bey reflected a 
moment, then turning round to the labourer, who 
had long given up all hopes of any benefit 
accruing to himself from the discovery, abruptly 
asked him what he would do with the money 
supposing the whole were given to him? The 
bewildered and dazzled man, after some seconds 
managed to stammer out, with many expressions 
of respect, "I would devote it all to cultivating 
land and breeding cattle." " Very well," replied 
the Bey, " it is yours ; but here are my conditions. 
You shall, as you say, devote it all to cultivating 
the land and breeding cattle, but every year, 
when the time of payment for the tax on the 
produce of the ground and on the flocks and herds 
comes round, you shall conscientiously discharge 
your debt to the State by paying both taxes 
regularly without concealing the true state of 
your affairs. Otherwise evil will befall you." 
The labourer joyfully consented, assured the Bey 
of his fidelity, and carried off his treasure after 
having solemnly signed the engagement. Imme- 
diately he set to work, bought land, and flocks, 



234 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



and herds, and devoted himself to the farming of 
his new property. Every year he punctually paid 
his taxes, which every year increased of course 
in proportion to his profits, but the honest man, 
far from grumbling, only went on extending his 
possessions; and as he was accustomed to hard 
work from the cradle, never grudged labour and 
attention, and superintended everything himself. 
At length at the end of many years, the Bey sent 
for him, and asked him how he was getting on ? 
The labourer, now the rich farmer, exhibited all 
his accounts carefully entered in his books from 
the first day of his possessing the 10,000 dinars. 
Whereupon Salah Bey, assembling his council, 
made inquiry as to what amount of taxes had 
been received from this one individual. It was 
seen, as well by the Treasury books as by those of 
the farmer himself, that the whole 10,000 dinars 
had already found its way into the Exchequer. 
The Bey did not fail forthwith to improve the 
occasion by showing how the money had not only 
doubled and trebled itself on the road so as to 
enrich its possessor, but that the country was the 
richer by a large tract of fresh cultivation and by 
the development of its resources. 



RELIGIOUS TOLERATION. 



235 



All the constructions of Salah Bey, by which he 
embellished Constantine, were at the same time 
for public benefit, and were chiefly mosques, semi- 
naries, or houses of refuge for pilgrims. His last 
great work, the reconstruction of the bridge (El 
Kantara) was made, however, the instrument of 
his downfall ; his enemies persuading the Dey of 
Algiers that he wished to render himself inde- 
pendent. A new governor was accordingly sent to 
supersede him, by whom he was besieged in his 
own palace. Kesistance being useless, Salah Bey 
surrendered upon condition of being allowed to 
pass out in company with a powerful Sheik of the 
besieging party, the ends of w 7 hose burnous, 
according to custom, he held as a safeguard. 
Scarcely, however, had they stepped into the 
street when the Sheik, plucking away his bur- 
nous from Salah's grasp, abandoned him to the 
soldiery, by whom he was immediately strangled 
— an ending but too common among Oriental 
potentates. 

Among the proofs of the enlightenment of this 
wise and great man was the toleration with which 
he treated the Jews. This unfortunate people, 
who number at present in Algeria about 30,000, 



236 



LAST WINTER IX ALGERIA. 



have, as it is known, been always loaded with 
insult by the Mahonimedans. Salah Bey, on 
the contrary, extended to them a protecting 
hand, and the Jews of the city of Constantine, 
and indeed of the whole province, have continued 
to be the least oppressed of all in Algeria, and 
have prospered accordingly. History bears ample 
testimony in all countries to the faithfulness of 
the Jews to their religion, cases even of individual 
conversion being rare. A curious instance, how- 
ever, has lately come to light of the conversion 
en masse of all the Jewish inhabitants of a town 
in the Desert. The particulars, as stated by the 
Eabbi Cohen of Constantine, and therefore per- 
fectly deserving of belief, are so strange as to be 
worth transcribing here. As the story goes, the 
Jews of Tougourt, in the middle of last century, 
presented to the chief of the Arab tribe to whom 
the place belonged, an unusually splendid birth- 
day gift, consisting of a regime or branch of dates, 
made of silver, the fruit being of pure gold. The 
chief was so delighted with the magnificence of 
the present, that he consulted with the elders and 
wise men of the tribe as to the best way of re- 
warding the donors, and it was decided that they 



JEWS MADE MAHOMMEDANS, 



237 



should be graciously permitted to embrace the 
religion of the Prophet as the highest honour 
which could be conferred upon them. The poor 
Jews, dismayed at the announcement, implored 
to be excused accepting the offer. Whereupon 
the chief, indignant at the rejection of what he 
deemed an inestimable favour, gave them twenty- 
four hours to make up their minds, with the alter- 
native of death. Many escaped by night, but were 
pursued and beheaded. The rest, terrified and co- 
erced, were forcibly made Mussulmans, and received 
the name of " Mehadjerin," the " well-rewarded." 
Of these many afterwards fled, some managed to get 
away, and take refuge with their brethren in other 
cities, but others were captured and executed as 
renegades. The more timid made the pilgrimage 
to Mecca, and acquired the reputation of good 
Mahommedans. How far they were so at heart, 
and how far their descendants are the same it is 
impossible to tell. They have certainly kept 
together in their old quarter, and intermarried 
only with each other ; but they will never reveal 
to any one, Jew or Christian, where their ancestors 
have hidden their books of the Law. Nor will 
they ever discuss the subject of religion with 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



Jews ; so great is their dread, even in these 
days, of their Mahommedan persecutors. 

But I must return to our own personal adven- 
tures. 

Six o'clock on the evening of the 28th March saw 
us packed into the coupe of the Batna diligence. 
The rain was falling heavily, and we were a little 
consoled for our forced night-journey by the re- 
flection that if it had been by day, the weather 
would have prevented us seeing much. Next 
morning at five a.m., we alighted, stiff and cold, 
in a dismal-looking little et Place," decorated with 
three or four small trees and the same number of 
stone benches, surrounding a bed of weeds in the 
centre. The town looked cheerless and repelling, 
even in the half light, but with the day the 
full frightfulness of Batna broke upon us. No 
village in the most barren regions of La Mancha 
ever struck me with such a sense of desolate 
unpicturesqueness as this vast masonry camp. 
Laid out with true military precision, its streets 
of low, mean, drab-coloured houses, with pink, 
tiled roofs, stretched away right and left in 
vistas of ugliness. A drab wall enclosed the huge 
barracks, also drab ; another wall of the same 



UNPLEASANT COLOURING. 



239 



Quaker-like hue encompassed the whole town ; 
beyond lay a bleak stony plain, faintly streaked 
at wide intervals with the green of the upspringing 
crops ; while the horizon was closed in on all sides 
by wild rocky mountains, blackened in patches 
by the dark foliage of cedar forests. Nor did any 
subsequent view of the place remove the first 
disagreeable impression. We were unlucky in 
the weather it is true, for on our return from 
Biskra, when we were again doomed to spend a 
day here, the rain was exchanged for sleet, and 
the air was so cold and raw that, after a vain 
attempt to visit the cedar forest, we retired to our 
beds, heaping duvets and shawls over our frozen 
limbs. I had thought that the place could not 
look more miserable than on our first visit, that 
the poor pitiful details of the picture could not 
appear worse than in the soaking rain, which 
deepened the drab of the houses, or in the fitful 
gleams of sickly sunshine which heightened the 
yellow pink of the roofs. But on this second occa- 
sion the colouring was even more unpleasantly 
offensive, from its contrast with the white masses 
of recently fallen snow on the hills, while the 
pale sulphur-coloured snow-laden clouds overhead 



240 LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



cast an unwholesome tinge over the whole atmo- 
sphere, 

Batna lies on the edge of a high table-land, 
between the Great Atlas and the Aures Mountains, 
and 3300 feet above the sea level, which accounts 
for its ungenial climate so late in the year. I 
doubt, however, of its gaining greatly in beauty 
at any season, from the unpicturesqueness of its 
position and construction, and the monotonous 
features of its surroundings. The Gruide Book, 
indeed, talks rapturously of alleys which offer " de 
fort jolies promenades," but as they consist only 
of one or two rows of trees, the height of good- 
sized bushes, the effect cannot be very striking. 

A small omnibus, which runs daily between 
Batna and Lambessa, conveyed us in about an hour 
to the latter place, where we wandered about in the 
wet grass and pouring rain, examining the vestiges 
of the old Roman city, whose name it still bears. 
Its extent must have been enormous, forty gates 
having been in existence a hundred years back. 
They are now reduced to four, but numerous other 
remains show the former magnificence of the 
place. The best preserved building is that which 
goes by the name of the Pretorium, an immense 



ROMAN REMAINS. 



241 



square edifice adorned with colonnades and a fine 
pilastered facade. 

It is strange how the works of those great archi- 
tects survive : the Moorish house is tottering and 
crooked, even the French barrack is already full 
of cracks and seams ; but those old Eoman build- 
ings still endure, their huge stones uncemented 
by mortar kept in place solely by the exquisite 
exactness of their fitting. The French army in 
1844 came upon this vast city, abandoned for ages, 
and wonderingly explored its remains. Strange 
march was theirs over the north of Africa, tread- 
ing in the footsteps of an extinct civilization, of 
an army as disciplined and warlike as themselves, 
stumbling over the ruins of many an ancient city, 
even far down to the south among the sands of 
the Sahara. Over all the rich-soiled plains of the 
Tell, now laboriously and partially regained at 
so much cost, waved centuries back the golden 
corn. Prosperous cities lay scattered in all direc- 
tions ; nay, even haunts of pleasure, villas of repose, 
may be traced amid the neglected vines and fruit- 
trees of their own deserted gardens. Ominous 
warning to the nations of to-day! Humiliating 
reflection to mankind in general ! 



242 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA, 



Larnbessa, the head-quarters of the Third 
Legion, was founded in the commencement of 
the Christian era, and was one of those military 
colonies which the Romans had such a special 
talent for forming, the soldiers being their own 
masons, carpenters, and cultivators. Certainly 
things must have been differently managed in 
those days, the military constructions of the last 
forty years which one sees in Africa being of a 
yery different stamp. The peculiar interest of 
Lambessa is its having remained unaltered through 
all these ages, unlike most Roman cities which 
have been gradually obscured by modern ad- 
ditions. Pompeii and Herculaneum show the 
interior side of Roman life, — Lambessa exhibits 
its outward splendour. Abandoned to the ravages 
of time alone, its crumbling stones still retain 
some of the grandeur of olden days, a grandeur 
the more apparent amid the surrounding deso- 
lation. 

Among the minor remains is the tomb of 
Flavius Maximus, one of the prefects of the Third 
Legion, which owes its state of preservation to a 
French colonel, who ordered the tottering monu- 
ment to be pulled down and carefully rebuilt, 



HONOURS PAID TO THE MIGHTY DEAD. 243 



only one stone being missing, which the Arabs 
had carried off in their incessant search for 
treasure. The ashes of the Roman general having 
been piously replaced in the tomb, the whole 
garrison of Batna was ordered to defile before it 
and salute the memory of the Roman garrison, 
their predecessors. The incident, if a little French 
in sentiment, was certainly laudable. 

A few French colonists' cottages, and a great 
modern building of the workhouse-order of archi- 
tecture stand almost amid the old classic ruins, 
the latter a penitentiary holding about a thou- 
sand convicts, both French and native. Those 
we saw looked well fed and healthy ; they are 
chiefly employed in various kinds of out-door 
work. Government allows a neighbouring pro- 
prietor the labour of 150 convicts daily, in return 
for his supplying the penitentiary with garden 
and dairy produce; a satisfactory arrangement 
enough as regards himself, and he has already 
made a large fortune ; but the other colonists 
around complain bitterly of a farm, thus econo- 
mically worked, monopolizing the furnishing of 
supplies to the garrison and town of Batna. In 
fact, the existence of this large body of convicts 



244 LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



has injured both Batna and the little colony of 
Lambessa in many ways. 

While resting in a small cafe we fell into 
conversation with the wife of the proprietor, a 
respectable but much depressed looking woman. 
On my remarking that Batna seemed a large 
place, and asking if it was prosperous, she 
shook her head and answered, " Qa ne Taut 
rien aujourd'hui !" " How do you mean ?" I 
exclaimed. " Well, madame, there is no busi- 
ness done because of the detenus." " But the 
detenus have been here many, many years, 
surely ?" u Oui, madame ; but it is only within 
the last two that they have worked outside the 
penitentiary, and now there is nothing for the 
colonists to do. See how the houses are shut up 
everywhere, — everybody is going away ; how can 
one fight against a competition of detenus, who 
are paid only ten sous a day ? There are masons, 
carpenters, labourers. II y a de tout. (J!a ne tra- 
vaille pas vite, mais ca ne se paye que dix sous. 
On les loue au premier venu et les honnetes gens 
s'en vont !" It seemed true enough ; the village 
looked half deserted, many of the houses being- 
shut up, as we had remarked on arriving. Work 



WORK FOR THE " DETENUS." 



245 



is certainly required for a number of able-bodied 
criminals, but all this time the high road from 
Batna to Biskra — the only communication with 
the French outposts — was lying unmetalled, un- 
bridged, uncared-for, impassable in heavy rains 
on account of the swollen rivers, alw r ays rough 
and often dangerous. Plenty of work for the 
" detenus" of Lambessa ! as we exclaimed, groaning 
next clay, when jolting over its boulder-strewn 
surface, narrowly escaping at one moment being- 
upset into the deep channels hollowed by the 
rains, the next driving wildly over the rocks and 
hillocks, where the road had been carried aw r ay 
altogether. 

Through the incessant rain we returned to our 
dreary inn at Batna, considerably damped by our 
excursion, and endeavoured to beguile the re- 
mainder of the day and the evening as best we 
could, glad of the companionship of one of our 
last night's fellow-travellers. He w r as evidently 
an intelligent man, and seemed to know the 
country thoroughly. He gave us information of the 
most varied description about hotels, antiquities, 
scenery, military affairs, &c. He spoke of frequent 
journeyings in almost every direction in all three 



246 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



provinces, and we wondered what he could be. 
Our German companion set him down as a civil 
functionary. We wavered between a commissariat 
officer and a " cornmis voyageur." Presently he 
frankly announced himself as superintending the 
4 'Limit aires," which dimly understanding as some- 
thing topographical, we plied him with questions 
of distance and situations. He looked puzzled, 
ran his hands through his hair, and shouted 
almost as loudly as an Englishman, trying to 
make a foreigner comprehend English, "Les 
lits mi-li-taires ! C'est que je couche le soldat." 
Whereupon he gave us an interesting account 
of how they " coucher " the French soldier. He 
is farmed by a company — the " Compagnie des 
Limitaires," as our new acquaintance persisted in 
pronouncing the words. That is to say as a sleep- 
ing, not a fighting animal, he is dependent no 
longer on Government, and his bed and bedding- 
being the property of the company, he is account- 
able to them for all damages according to a recog- 
nised scale of prices. 

This system has prevailed in the French 
army for forty-seven years, and during the last 
twenty-two it has been extended to the troops 



THE SOLDIER'S COUCH. 



247 



in Africa. Enormous magazines are provided 
in most large garrisons for the stores of the 
company, all of which latter are subject to the 
inspection of the commissariat. The company 
has its own spinning and weaving establishments 
in France, and washing establishments in most 
parts. Thus on so vast a scale there is profit 
everywhere. " We have," said the superintendent, 
with a proud air as of personal possessorship, 
"450,000 beds, being obliged to keep our stock 
somewhat in excess of the numbers of the army. 
We have 900,000 blankets, 900,000 mattresses, 
and 1,800,000 sheets. Of these beds 400,000 are 
in use. We change their sheets once in twentv 
days, or sixteen times a year. We thus wash," he 
continued, rolling the numbers unctuously over his 
lips, " 6,400,000 pairs of sheets a year. The washing- 
costs us three centimes a pair, viz., 192,000 francs 
in the year ; but our shareholders do not complain, 
they get their eight or nine per cent. 'Et le 
Grouvernement gagne, et le soldat est bien couche/ " 
he added, triumphantly. " But what does Govern- 
ment pay you ?" we asked. " Ten francs one cen- 
time a year per bed, which includes everything, 
washing and all." "Ten francs one centime !" we 



248 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



repeated. " What a strange sum ! Why one cen- 
time?" Our superintendent rose with a solemn 
air. " Well, it is a trifle, perhaps, only 4000 francs 
a year; but it is worth having, it pays for the 
washing of 133,333 pairs of sheets/' he continued, 
consulting, for the last time, a greasy black note- 
book which he now returned to his pocket, deem- 
ing us sufficiently impressed with the importance 
of his Company. As he left the room, however, 
after bidding us adieu for the night, he paused in 
the doorway to acid, emphatically, "Kemember, 
Madame et Messieurs, 192,000 francs for washing 
alone !" 



BARREN DESOLATION. 



249 



CHAPTER XIV. 

AN OASIS OF THE SAHAKA. 

Desolation — An Arab tribe on the march — An old Roman in 
modern garb — First sight of the desert — 160,000 palms — 
The fruit of the Sahara — A French hermit — " The land 
where it is always afternoon." 

At four a.m., before daybreak, on a dark, stormy 
morning, we again clambered into the coupe of 
the diligence. There is nothing without its good 
side, and the badness of the road between Batna 
and Biskra happily saved us from a night-journey. 
Day dawned at length upon the desolate plain. 
So sparse is the present cultivation of this " Granary 
of Borne," that it was only when the perspective 
of distance made the thinly-scattered blades of 
wheat seem closer, and a faint tinge of green 
appear, that we realized that we were not driving 
through a stony desert. A wall of thick mist 
shut out the mountains around ; a roof of leaden 



250 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



cloud concealed the sky overhead. Every now 
and then we passed a few miserable tents of black 
camel-hair, showing like black rocks amid the 
heaps of stones, or met a shivering Arab with his 
burnous flapping in the raw wind. The road 
began to rise by degrees, and at last from the 
summit of the Col, we saw far away in the distance 
a focus of light overhung by a heavy curtain of 
cloud. Gradually and slowly the curtain lifted, 
and discovered one mountain after another 
glowing a rosy pink in the sunrise. It was the 
chain of the Aures, beyond which lay our 
goal, the Desert of Sahara. On the north of the 
mountains all was gloom ; on the south, all 
brightness. 

The scene now grew more cheerful ; the clouds, 
no longer level with our feet, floated up to the 
tops of the near hills, still, however, covering the 
sky overhead. The road became more and more 
crowded with Arabs. It was the season of their 
spring exodus from the Sahara. Having already 
reaped the harvest " down south," they journey up 
to the plains of the Great Atlas to await the 
ripening of the grain sown by them the previous 
autumn, or to exchange the dates and woollen 



A TRIBE ON THE MARCH. 



fabrics of the desert against the grain and raw 
wool of the Tell — a single load of dates being 
worth, at harvest time, two of corn ; while, on the 
other hand, on their return south in the autumn, 
the corn they carry back with them is double the 
value of the dates then ready for gathering. In 
these elevated plateaux of the Tell they spend the 
hot season, finding here, when the coarse weeds 
of the desert are scorched and lifeless, pasturage 
for their flocks over the fallow earth, after the 
harvest is reaped. 

It was an animated sight as group after group, 
a whole tribe on the march, passed by at intervals 
all day, accompanied by flocks of sheep and goats, 
herds of camels and asses. The men armed to 
the teeth, a long matchlock in hand, a sabre slung 
crosswise over their shoulders, quaintly-chased 
pistols peeping through the folds of their burnous. 
The women brown and wild-looking, with brilliant 
white teeth and masses of coal-black hair, plaited 
and coiled round in a large whorl on each side of 
the face, enormous rings of silver and coral in their 
ears, barbaric-looking ornaments of the same 
hanging from their turban, heavy bangles encir- 
cling their ankles and arms, clad chiefly in some 



252 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



bright red-striped stuff, and unveiled, as all Arab 
women in the country are. The younger ones 
were decidedly handsome, their features often 
straight and regular, almost classic* Some carry- 
ing their babies were mounted on mules, but more 
often the men rode, making their horses prance 
as we approached, while the wives trudged patiently 
behind. Dark large-eyed children were perched 
on the humps of camels, surrounded by house- 
hold-belongings of every description, water-jars, 
rolled-up tents and carpets, hand mill-stones 
— even cocks and hens slung by the feet, head 
downwards. Sometimes a small kid or a young 
lamb peeped out beside its little human com- 
panion, or a feeble old crone enjoyed the unwonted 
luxury of a lift. Once we met a very large drove 
of camels, about 200, with their young ones, pretty 
fluffy brown or grey creatures, gamboling like 
foals. 

The plain now began to contract into a valley, 

then the valley into a narrow winding gorge, across 

* Tradition ascribes the female beauty so remarkable 
among the tribes of the Aures Mountains to an admixture 
of Eoman blood, a remnant of the Komans vanquished by 
the Arab invaders of the seventh century having joined the 
native tribes with whom in time they became mingled. 



THE GATES OF THE DESERT. 



253 



which our road kept, as it were, leaping from side 
to side, plunging continually into the river-bed. 
The scene was barren in the extreme; even the 
weeds and lentisk bushes hitherto scattered over 
the hills disappeared, and, save a few small green 
patches of corn struggling for existence at the 
water's edge, all traces of vegetation had disap- 
peared. Huge red precipices rose to the left ; 
layers of bare sloping rock shelved away to the 
right ; the defile grew wilder and narrower ; the 
wall of rock to the south more and more scarped, 
till suddenly, so suddenly that we almost mis- 
trusted our eyes, on turning a shoulder of rock, 
a great chasm in the mountain, as if a monster 
ledge had been cloven out, burst on our view, the 
gates of tile desert, to use the Arab expression ; 
a blue vista of hill and valley flecked with golden 
lights, lay beyond, stretching away to the 
Sahara. 

A small inn and a few Arab huts looked strangely 
out of place in this solitary spot. Hastily swallow- 
ing our breakfast, we walked on down the pass ; 
rugged fantastic peaks of every shade of colour 
from the brightest orange and red to the richest 
mulberry brown, rose above our heads on either 



254 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



side, throwing a deep shadow over the foreground, 
cutting sharply against the bright green of a palm 
forest in the sunny plain just below; a sudden 
burst of vegetation amid the surrounding barren- 
ness. A couple of minutes brought us in front of 
the magnificent old Eoman bridge El Kantara, 
which has given its name to the river. For near 
2000 years it has spanned the gorge at its narrowest 
part ; the work of the famous Third Legion, the 
architects of Lambessa. At intervals, all along 
the road from Batna, one sees traces of their vic- 
torious march southwards — fragments of columns, 
broken capitals, now and then an inscription on 
some altar or tomb, telling the tale in half-defaced 
characters. 

The bridge is the finest of all the remains, but 
within the last few months its ancient character 
has been entirely obliterated by the repairs con- 
sidered necessary for modern use. Scarcely, 
however, was the work of disfiguring the grand old 
pile finished, when, with the fatal changeableness 
inseparable from a constantly fresh administration, 
the whole plan was altered, the road carried past 
the bridge without crossing it, and the picturesque- 
ness of the narrow ravine further diminished bv 



THE FIRST OASIS. 



255 



blasting the rocks to widen the passage. The 
same passion for restoration which possesses the 
present French government, and which has within 
the last ten years effaced all semblance of anti- 
quity in many a time-honoured monument of the 
mother country, rages even down to the very 
borders of the African desert, and actually has 
stamped the cypher of Napoleon III. on the 
memorial of Eoman days. And so the bridge of 
El Kantara stands, venerable no longer ; but 
spruce, trim, and respectable, as any whitewashed 
abomination fresh from the hands of the church- 
warden. 

Soon the diligence overtook us, and whirled us 
through the defile dow 7 n into the palm oasis of 
El Kantara, a zone of green bordering the river 
for two miles, so vivid as to be almost dazzling — 
a vividness peculiar to an oasis — the edge being 
so distinctly marked against the tawny aridness of 
the surrounding bare earth. Vegetation ceases 
suddenly ; the palms stand in close ranks, the 
wheat and maize in rich luxuriance up to the very 
margin of the desert ; no gradual diminution of 
fertility softening the contrast. It is this contrast 
which is the strange charm of the picture. A 



256 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



Frenchman had once, in a disparaging way, told 
me, when at Algiers, that an oasis was not any- 
thing remarkable: — "You would not think much 
of the trees and crops," he said, " if you saw them 
among others. It is because you have come so 
far, and are in the midst of so much barrenness, 
that the green island appears so wonderful." Un- 
wittingly he had hit upon the " open secret " lying 
at the root of the matter, — the force of contrast. 
How much beauty is born of this — the blue sky, 
looking a deeper blue oyer the golden cornfield ; 
the water-lily, whiter on its dark-green leaf. How 
much of enjoyment, too — the sleep that is so sweet 
after exertion, the twilight so soothing after the 
brightness of day, the coolness of night after the 
noontide heat. 

Mingled with the palms of the oasis were fig, 
almond, oliye, and orange-trees ; and under their 
shade lay a yillage, just like those one sees in 
Egypt ; the low, flat-roofed houses, built of sun- 
dried mud-bricks, called here cloub. The corn, 
which on the other side of the pass but just peered 
aboye ground, was here in full ear; to the chill 
wind and gloomy sky north of the mountains had 
succeeded a delicious warmth and brightness ; we 



GEOLOGICAL STRUCTURE. 



257 



seemed in the course of the few minutes' descent 
to have dropped from winter into summer. 

Leaving the oasis behind we turned to the 
west, and drove over a long level plain between 
two ranges of mountains, its geological structure 
giving it the form of a badly-fashioned card-tray, 
such as children make ; one side, where the over- 
lapping strata were abruptly broken off, standing 
fairly upright ; while the other side was a slope ; 
and the rock at the foot of the hills being laid 
bare by the almost total absence of soil, the very 
point was distinctly marked where the plain ceased 
to be horizontal and the upheaval began, the two 
lines forming an obtuse angle. 

At length, quitting this wide trough-like valley, 
but still following the course of the river, our road 
wound among the low rocky hills and stony valleys 
which form the outskirts of the Sahara — steppes, 
rather than desert, for the ground, though barren, 
was not always quite bare, tufts of coarse bent and 
a few stunted bushes showing occasionally among 
the stones, a tamarisk here and there in the dry 
watercourse; though again, large tracts, white 
with salt, were destitute of even a blade of grass. 
We changed horses at El Outaia, where one single 

s 



2 5 8 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



tall palm remains to tell of the flourishing but 
rebellious oasis destroyed by the famous Salah Bey 
of Constantine. Young palms, not above a man's 
height, replace the groves ruthlessly cut down. It 
was about three o'clock in the afternoon ; the sky 
was blue, the sun brilliant, the heat scorching ; far 
away behind us the curtain of rain-cloud lay rolled 
up and resting on the summits of the Aures. It 
was just the reverse of the morning's picture, 
when we looked from out of shadow into light. 
Nor was this the only change ; all around us in 
the little oasis " the fields were white to harvest ;" 
nay, half-reaped already. An encampment of 
tattered black and red-striped tents belonged to 
the reapers, poor wandering Arabs, who come 
year after year and hire themselves to gather in 
the crops — the Irish of the Desert ; their pay is 
one-fourth of the produce, or sometimes they prefer 
money, and receive about two francs a day, at 
this present time. The harvest over, they pursue 
their course north and hire themselves again to 
reap the later crops of the Tell, returning south 
in the autumn, like their wealthier brethren, but 
pausing on their road to gather the date harvest 
of October. In this way the very poorest of some 



THE GREAT DESERT. 



259 



of the tribes gain their livelihood ; the same fami- 
lies hiring themselves year after year to the same 
proprietors. 

Still our road lay among the region of the 
steppes ; our heavy diligence dragged bravely over 
the stony track or through the heavy sand by its 
eight fine Norman horses ; Arab horses being too 
slight are never used for anything but very light 
draught. At length, towards sunset, having gained 
the summit of the little Col El Sfa, the cry of 
"The Desert!" burst from our lips. The real, 
illimitable Sahara was at length before us, stretch- 
ing far, far away ; level as water ; its violet-grey 
distance melting into the sky ; its horizon bound- 
less. No wonder that the French troops in '44 
exclaimed involuntarily at the sight — " The sea, 
the sea!" Here and there dark-green islands 
floated on the vast sea of sand, the oases of the 
Ziban, the nearest, Biskra, lying in a kind of amphi- 
theatre formed by the advancing spurs of the low 
hills through which we had just passed. Eapidly 
we dashed down the steep descent, swaying from 
side to side and bounding' over the stones. Even- 
ing drew on ; the tawny yellow of the sand around 
us merged in a more neutral tint; the distant 



260 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



mountains to our rear flamed with the red glow 
of the setting sun ; the twilight shadows were 
drawn like a veil over the desert. It was already- 
dusk when we approached Biskra. The breeze, 
which had blown all day, freshened with nightfall. 
Through the clouds of dust which dimmed the 
limpid twilight air, the palms showed like huge 
spectres, tossing their arms to and fro ; the wind 
rushing through their long stiff leaves with a 
wailing sound, rising and falling like the roar of 
the waves on the sea-shore. 

Next morning, at six o'clock, we started to 
explore the oasis, having secured as guide an 
interpreter of the Bureau- Arabe — a tall young 
native, with features soft and refined as a woman, 
an expression even more mournful than the 
generality of his countrymen, and the languor of 
fever in every slow graceful movement. The 
clean little hotel " du Sahara," where we had slept, 
was in the Fort St.-Germain, the French station 
at the edge of the oasis — not Biskra proper. This 
latter comprised seven villages scattered over the 
oasis, which is about three miles long by two wide. 
We wandered on from village to village, each amid 
its groves and gardens. Thousands of palms waved 



A MORNING WALK IN AN OASIS. 261 

over our heads in the fresh breeze ; orange blos- 
som scented the air ; the polished leaves of the fig- 
trees gleamed in the sunshine ; rills of clear water 
everywhere bordered our path. Altogether, it 
was as charming a morning walk as can be con- 
ceived. The villages were of " doub" as usual, their 
mud-coloured walls not on the whole unpleasant 
in hue when relieved by a bright blue sky, and 
even capable of taking, as we afterwards noticed, 
a rich greenish-yellow tinge in the afternoon sun. 
The houses were chiefly low, ruinous-looking 
buildings, full of cracks and seams ; some of them 
however showed architectural pretensions, having 
a ricketty upper storey, pierced by small triangular 
or star-shaped windows, and even a porch, sup- 
ported on what our German friend declared with 
rapture to be Eoman columns. It was not en- 
tirely improbable, as Biskra stands on the site of 
the Eoman settlement Ad Piscinam, of which 
later on we came to unmistakable remains. 
A close investigation of the pillars, however, 
dashed for the present his antiquarian hopes, and 
proved them to be palm-trunks covered with a 
coating of coarse cement, giving them exactly the 
grain of long-buried marble. The water-pipes 



262 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA, 



projecting from each flat-roofed dwelling, the door- 
lintels, &c, all were of palm, the only wood of 
any size attainable in these regions. 

On the outskirts of the villages we came here 
and there on tents watched by fierce dogs, and in- 
habited, as at El Outaia, by wandering reapers, or 
by the guardians of the palm-groves. Wild black- 
haired women sJ:ood at the tent-doors staring at us, 
and once or twice with the hospitality of nomads 
sending small urchins with shaved heads and erect 
scalp-lock to offer us rest and refreshment. But 
on re-entering the villages the women, on the 
contrary, drew their veils over their faces, and 
crept aside, or were motioned back into the house 
by their liege lords standing on the threshold. 
A country village apparently apes the manners of 
a town, in Africa as much as in Europe, and life, 
even in the midst of the desert, has its trammels 
of etiquette. 

One of the first villages through which we passed 
was inhabited by negroes only — former slaves 
brought from the Soudan, but restored to liberty 
by the French. Happily, no rules of fashion 
hinder the n egress from displaying her picturesque 
charms, which, to an artist's eye, are as attractive 



BLACK BEAUTY. 



263 



in their way as actual beauty. Her shining ebon 
skin and tall, finely-developed form are set off, 
too, by all the arts of an African "toilette." 
Several we saw were perfect studies of line and 
colour, with the long straight folds of their bright 
crimson and white striped skirt, and the broken 
lines of the same stripe on the haik, which was 
gathered gracefully round the shoulders and 
thrown back off the head, displaying its crisp 
black hair bound with a fillet of white beads. 

We wandered on and on, now pausing to 
admire a gigantic cypress not far from 150 feet in 
height, now peeping into the little mud houses, 
into whose sacred interiors our travelling com- 
panion had the most unconquerable desire to 
penetrate. Our guide was continually employed 
in apologizing to irate husbands guarding the 
threshold, past whom our friend was always en- 
deavouring to glide. Passing a little mosque, 
our attention was attracted by a buzz of voices, 
and, on looking in, we saw some thirty young men 
and boys seated on the ground round an old Arab, 
writing from dictation. No sooner did they per- 
ceive us than, at a signal from the master, they 
all started off reading aloud at the top of their 



264 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



voices, gabbling as fast as possible to show their 
proficiency, and indulging in the strongest of 
Arabic gutturals ; while the schoolmaster gazed 
at us with a triumphant air, as much as to say, 
" Are they not wonderfully clever?" 

At length, after about a couple of hours' pilgrim- 
age, we found ourselves at the Kusbah, only a mud 
fort in this instance. From the rising ground on 
which it stands we could see all over the oasis, 
away to the background of near serrated hills, 
and blue- veined distant mountains to the north ; 
away to the horizon of the tawny desert to the 
south. We were on a level with the tops of the 
palms, tossing in the wind like the waves of a 
dark-green sea, fascinating the eye, and producing 
the same dream-like mesmeric calm which steals 
over the senses when watching a waving field of 
corn. The voice of Ibrahim, our guide, broke the 
spell. Slowly he extended his long white-draped 
arm towards the palm groves, and in soft singing 
accents, befitting some Eastern tale of enchant- 
ment, remarked dreamily: "Voila une grande 
richesse !" We grew prosaic forthwith, and pro- 
ceeded to ask him various practical questions, 
which he answered in the same sleepy, poetical 



THE DATE-PALM. 



265 



voice. The date-palm we found was truly " une 
grande ricliesse," the groves over which we looked 
representing an annual income of thousands and 
thousands of pounds. The number of palms in 
this oasis is estimated at 160,000. The average 
yearly produce of a tree in full bearing is worth 
about twenty-five francs (viz., an English pound 
sterling) ; but of course a certain proportion are 
either too young or too old to bear, or are of the 
male species. They are, during the course of a 
long life, profitable servants to their owners. 
Beginning to produce at about the age of ten or 
twelve, they continue bearing, with of course 
alternations of good and bad years, until they are 
eighty or a hundred. Even then, as a last effort, 
they yield their sap for palm wine, and their 
great tall trunks are at length felled for building 
purposes. All during the course of their lifetime, 
moreover, the fibrous leafsheaths are stripped off 
at intervals, and used as tow to mix with the mud- 
bricks instead of the straw more plentiful in 
Egypt, of which one reads in the days of Joseph 
and Pharaoh; while from their leaves plaited 
mats and baskets are made. 

Although the home of the date-palm is in the 



266 



LAST WINTER US ALGERIA. 



scorching desert, it is yet to be found scattered 
over the region of the Tell. We have many of 
us seen it waving on the northern coast of the 
Mediterranean ; and a grove of some thousands 
exists at Elche, near Alicante, on the eastern shores 
of Spain. But its fruit does not ripen in every 
clime which its graceful form adorns. In none of 
these regions does it reach perfection. The dates 
are small, insipid, and devoid of sweetness, and 
consequent nourishment. A certain aggregate 
amount of heat is required to develop their 
saccharine properties; and no small amount, 
either, as seven months of Saharian summer 
temperature elapse between the first formation 
of the date, and its ripening in October. 

The absence of rain appears to be another con- 
dition of perfection which may account for the fruit 
not flourishing as the palm itself does in India, 
where the mean temperature must be far higher, 
but its effects are doubtless counteracted by the 
copious rains of the monsoons. In the Sahara, 
on the contrary, rain scarcely, if ever, falls. The 
date-palm, on the other hand, is greedy of moisture 
to its roots : the Arabs say, " The date likes to 
have its head in the fire, and its feet in the water." 



IRRIGATION. 



267 



From this necessity has sprung a system of irri- 
gation, spreading its network of channels and rills 
over all the oasis, governed by intricate laws and 
calculations existing even in the days of the earliest 
inhabitants ; and which was no doubt the origin of 
that vast system of irrigation, applied to every 
species of culture, which was carried by the Moors 
into Spain and left there, a legacy up to the 
present day, in the Huerta of Valencia, and the 
Vega of Granada. At Biskra every tree has its 
appointed portion of water. A ditch, capable of 
holding about six cubic feet of water, is dug round 
each, and it receives some 300 cubic feet during 
the course of the seven summer months, and 
about forty-five cubic feet during the fallow winter 
ones. The water is brought in small canals from 
the river Biskra, rising in the Aures Mountains, 
within the rain-limits. Many a dispute, ending 
at times in blows and bloodshed, arises from 
offences against the irrigation laws. Turning off 
any of a neighbour's portion of water is an actual 
theft ; it is as much the man's property as his 
land ; he has bought the two together, as they 
are always sold in Biskra, and the payment for 
the water is considerable. 



268 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



After all the date-trees are served, the remain- 
ing water is meted out to the corn and other 
crops, but they are not so profitable, requiring a 
large quantity of water in proportion to the value 
of their produce, and, what is even a greater draw- 
back to the Arab, needing far more labour and 
trouble. The palm is planted once for all, its ditch 
dug, and beyond the lazy opening and shutting of 
the canal, on an average once a week during the 
year, there is little work to be done. The harvest 
is gathered, like that of the wheat, by the aid of 
the wandering Arabs, who receive the same pro- 
portion of the produce, viz., one-fourth of the fruit 
of each tree. A great quantity of the dates are 
exported, selling at Constantine for double the 
price, but costing fifty per cent, for carriage, and 
leaving, therefore, fifty per cent, profit. The quality 
depends partly on the care with which the dates 
are gathered, but chiefly on the species of the 
tree ; of which, in the oases of the Ziban, there are 
no less than seventy varieties altogether. Ibrahim 
pointed out, with the air of a connoisseur, several 
"arbres de belles dates;" they seemed to have 
thicker trunks than the rest, but it was difficult for 
tyros like ourselves to distinguish their peculiarities. 



THE " JARDIN D'ESSAI." 



269 



A tax of twelve sous is paid yearly to govern- 
ment for each tree in full bearing. Our guide 
assured us that in the time of the Turks it was 
equal to five francs; information which had to 
be received " cum grano salis " from the mouth 
of an "employe/' and Oriental to boot. The 
words of an Eastern, if in any way affecting his 
relations to the person addressed, have almost 
always a subtle flattery about them, evinced by 
his answers being generally less in accordance 
with what facts are, than with what he imagines 
his questioners wish them to be ; and as we always 
spoke French with our travelling companion, the 
unfastidious ear of an Arab may well have been 
misled as to our nationality. I have often been 
amused by the assertion of English people in 
Algiers, that our countrymen were such favourites 
with the natives that they wished we had con- 
quered them instead of the French — flattery one 
would think too gross to be swallowed even by the 
self-complacency of John Bull, 

While conversing, our path had led us back to- 
wards the French quarter, not far from which we 
came on the Jardin d'Essai, enthusiastically praised 
in our guide-book. Alas ! for the mutability of 



270 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



human things, or rather of the French character ; 
the whole was a wilderness, or well-nigh such. Of 
the sugar-cane, the coffee, the indigo, the rice, the 
cotton, the trees and plants from every land, the 
strong had choked the weak, the less tenacious 
had disappeared altogether, while the hardiest had 
grown with a luxuriance which showed of what the 
soil was capable. The superintendent seemed 
scarcely to know where or what his nurslings were. 
Jardin d'Essai, we thought no bad name for 
a mere experiment abandoned thus speedily. 
Everything almost in Algeria speaks of the in- 
firmity of purpose, the want of perseverance, which 
disfigures the character of a great people like the 
French. They are too supple to be tough — rather 
wax than marble. You can mould the wax into 
a thousand delicate and beautiful forms, with a 
celerity almost magical, but in the hot noontide 
sun of toil, or the furnace of trial, it melts and 
perishes with even greater speed. 

On leaving the Jardin we directed our steps 
to the market, as our friend wished to purchase 
a burnous. The merchants sat in the midst of 
their goods spread out on the ground. Valuable 
burnouses were lying about in crumpled heaps in 



THE MARKET. 



271 



the dust. Some were very fine — made entirely of 
silk, or stripes of gauze and satin alternately ; but 
they were so tumbled and spoilt by carelessness, 
that we asked to be directed to a shop, and only 
glanced round the market without buying any- 
thing. The chief commodities seemed to be shoes, 
and objects of leather, tobacco-pouches, knife- 
sheaths, &c. There were also some curious little 
purses, or pouches, made of lizard, or iguano skins, 
with the scales on, and several large hats with 
enormous brims, manufactured from the dwarf 
palm, decorated with ostrich feathers and coloured 
tassels, and worn by Arabs in summer when obliged 
to expose themselves to the sun. The merchant 
to whose shop we were taken had a considerable 
stock of all kinds of native articles, but asked 
such fabulous prices that we left him for the 
present. He did not call us back, or seem in any 
way anxious to sell his goods, but sat smiling 
serenely, with a large pink oleander blossom stuck 
over one ear. Ibrahim remarked that he was an 
opium-eater. "You could always distinguish such," 
he added, "by their wearing a flower in their ear; 
for while smoking opium, they like to place a 
beautiful flower in a vase before them, to suggest 



272 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



pleasant images as they fall into a dreamy trance, 
and afterwards they wear it [during the rest of the 
day." 

The sun was now becoming oppressive, and we 
made our way back to the hotel to rest a while. 
Late in the afternoon we again strolled out, to a 
charming garden belonging to a young French- 
man who has made Biskra his winter-quarters. 
His servants told us he was only twenty-two, and 
came unaccompanied by anybody but an old aunt, 
— a dwarf: here the strange couple spend some 
months every year. He had just finished building 
an airy kind of bungalow, which would have been 
all the better for a deep verandah. He had now 
gone back to France, and left the furnishing for 
another season. Large mirrors, however, stood 
against the walls in packing-cases ; there was a 
handsome marble chimneypiece in the salon, and 
also, put there for shelter, a pretty little basket- 
carriage, rather a superfluous luxury, it seemed, 
in a place where the choice of roads lay between 
deep sand and thickly-scattered stones. 

The afternoon was now in the full voluptuousness 
of its beauty. We sat down under the palms, and 
lazily enjoyed our well-earned repose ; their long 



LOTUS EATING. 



273 



shadows stretched away in front of us, crossing 
each other, and tremulous at the further edge as 
the wind stirred the plume-like tops of the trees. 
Before us lay the river-bed, a saint's tomb in the 
centre catching the light on its white dome. The 
high opposite banks glowed " in the amber light," 
crowned in one part by an outlying fragment of 
the oasis, the vivid golden-green of its palms stand- 
ing out against the delicate lilacs and pinks of a 
distant spur of the Aures. We gazed and gazed 
as the colours deepened, feeling as if we would 
willingly have arrested the dissolving hues of the 
picture, and dwelt for ever in " the land where it 
is always afternoon." A delicious languor stole 
over the senses, the wind fell to a soft breeze, the 
silence was broken only by the far-off hum of 
voices, and the rippling of the water in the little 
stream. Slowly and steadily, however, the day 
waned ; the shadow blotted out the sunshine. We 
rose at last 9 carrying away the scene to be stored 
up in the picture gallery of memory, where " a 
thing of beauty is a joy for ever !" 



T 



274 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



CHAPTEE XV. 

DUE NORTH. 

Pleasures of African travel — Pigeon shooting — The evils of a 
" petit verre " — Army discipline — Lions and lion-hunters — 
The pockets of a fellow-traveller — Cork forests. 

Our return to Constantine being over old ground 
did not offer much of fresh interest. We had to 
start very early in the morning, and so . were 
awakened at two o'clock. It was perfectly dark 
as we groped our way to the diligence office ; and 
as we drove past the church, the hour of three was 
marked by the illuminated clock, an article of 
luxury which seemed to have dropped from the 
skies in this little out-of-the-way town in the 
Great Desert. 

Among our fellow-passengers were the engineer 
in charge of the road at El Kantara, the landlord 
of the little inn at the same place, and a mason, 
who, having finished his work at the bridge, had 



PLEASANT COMPANY! 



275 



taken a trip down to Biskra before returning to 
his home at Batna. The latter imparted to our 
German friend, who was in the banquette, his 
disgust at the little amusement he had got out of 
his money. " Eighty francs it has cost me, and 
it is the most triste place I was ever in. Quels 
cafes ! quel monde ! on m'a vole de tous les cotes." 
It appeared he had been carousing most of the 
time and imbibing absinthe copiously, after the 
manner of colonists. 

Two or three rough-looking individuals mounted 
on the roof as the day wore on, and the party grew 
very merry ; the bottle circulated freely during 
the journey, and whenever we changed horses or 
passed a hut everyone got down and " refreshed " 
in company with the coachman and the shabby 
66 conducteur," an intoxicated and somewhat quar- 
relsome youth. From time to time a loud report 
resounded overhead, and the horses would begin 
to kick. It was only the discontented mason so- 
lacing himself by shooting between the animal's 
ears at a hawk or wild pigeon. As by this time 
the absinthe had been circulating for several 
hours, and the wayside stoppages had been fre- 
quent, the proximity of these fellow-passengers 



276 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



was by no means agreeable. Our German friend 
reported that they had been much surprised and 
offended at his requesting them not to rest the 
muzzle of their guns against the small of his back. 
We were as much delighted as astonished at find- 
ing ourselves arrived unharmed at our journey's 
end, and seeing the riotous pack descend from the 
roof safe and sound. 

It is this drunkenness which is the bane of the 
Algerian colonists. Absinthe, that nauseous-looking 
liqueur which we see Frenchmen sipping in the 
Paris cafes, is in Algeria consumed to a frightful 
extent. The colonist begins with a few drops, 
" pour couper 1'eau," which is often brackish and 
unwholesome ; or he feels weak and low after the 
too-frequent fevers of the plains and valleys, 
and requires to " remonter" himself. The habit of 
course increases till he seems to need it at every 
hour of the day. Medical men have pronounced 
absinthe to be the strongest and most pernicious 
of all spirituous liquors. Of course it is not to be 
wondered at that property changes hands with un- 
paralleled rapidity, or that terrible tales of the 
Algerian climate are carried back to France by 
the widows and orphans of many a victim to 



LAXITY OF ARMY DISCIPLINE. 



277 



absinthe. The propensity, too, is unfortunately 
shared by the army, though in a minor degree, 
and many officers confess they cannot eat a morsel 
of breakfast until they have had their morning 
" petit verre/' 

Nor is this the only evil effect of African ser- 
vice. It is the general complaint when regiments 
return to France that they have lost immensely in 
discipline. We had seen a proof of it in the 
course of this day's journey from Biskra, having 
passed a detachment of soldiers on the march. 
First we came on a straggler or two in the rear ; 
then about half a mile further a small body march- 
ing anyhow, some without their coats, some with 
a foulard on their heads instead of their shako, and 
one or two colonists mixed up with them. Then 
still further on came the officer in command, and 
two or three men, at nearly a couple of miles' dis- 
tance from the rear, while a few more were strag- 
gling on in advance. It was not the first time we 
had remarked the looseness of discipline among 
the Algerian troops. One or two instances es- 
pecially had fallen lately under our eye. At 
Philippeville, when visiting a troop of artillery 
camped outside the town, we had been struck by 



278 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



the neglected, dirty look of both men and horses ; 
and at Constantine, too, we had met a troop of 
cavalry exercising; the horses were ill-groomed, 
and the men wanted neatness and smartness. Our 
German friend, who had inspected all the barracks 
on his route, told the same tale of every garrison, 
Such laxity is perhaps almost inseparable from 
the division of the Algerian army among a number 
of scattered posts — a couple of hundred men here, 
fifty there, and so on.* In these outposts, of 
course, having much more liberty, they learn a 
vast number of bad habits. In fact, I have 
heard it spoken of as open to doubt, whether 
Algeria is the excellent school for the army which 
it is so emphatically proclaimed to be by those 
who carry off the prizes. Doubtless the home 
government is in happy ignorance as to the size 
and importance of those skirmishes, vaguely termed 
"une affaire," after which such showers of stars 
fall upon the lucky combatants. The necessarily 
guerilla character of Algerian warfare certainly 

* Since the Emperor's letter of 1865, in which the faults 
of this system were pointed out, many of the smallest posts 
have been suppressed, and the troops altogether more con- 
centrated. 



A SCIENTIFIC INDIVIDUAL, 



279 



forms the army to habits of endurance and patient 
perseverance, while it excites the individual to 
deeds of daring; but it scarcely exercises the 
officer in the tactics requisite for an Euro- 
pean campaign, skirmishing, however skilfully 
managed, being altogether a different thing from 
the concerted movements of large masses of 
men, and all the elaborate strategy of modern 
warfare. 

After passing a cold and wretched day amid 
the rain and sleet of Batna, we joyfully hailed the 
approach of night and of the diligence which was 
to convey us away. Tastes differ, however, for 
our German companion, who was in the " In- 
terieur" with a very scientific and very dirty 
individual, whose proximity was anything but 
pleasant, told us that the latter spoke with perfect 
rapture of Batna as one of the most interesting 
places he had ever visited, and one where he 
would like to spend a whole year. On our friend 
demurring to such wholesale praise, he continued, 
"Jamais je n'ai vu un pays si riche en insectes," 
and produced from his pockets bottle after bottle 
of pickled scorpions and other horrors, adding, 
triumphantly and naively, that he had various 



28o 



LAST WINTER IX ALGERIA. 



living specimens of insects about him — a fact 
which indeed was more than probable ! 

We remained one day at Constantine, and spent 
a pleasant evening at the house of a French official 
to whom we had an introduction. He and his wife 
were kindness and hospitality itself, and we had a 
merry " diner de famille," all the children, after 
French fashion, sitting at table with their parents. 
It was a pretty sight this family party, so united 
and domestic, living their peaceful life in the quiet 
town of Constantine, in the society of a few other 
families, and undisturbed by the world and its 
gaieties. The mother, a young-looking handsome 
woman, very lively and agreeable, told us she 
had been twenty years in Algeria, and hoped never 
to leave " ce beau pays que nous aimons tant." The 
life, she said, was so different from that of France, 
so free and untrammelled. Part of the time she 
had spent at Algiers, but she much preferred Con- 
stantine ; " ou nous vivons," she continued, " une 
vie tranquille avec quelques bons amis, et mes 
enfants," she added, looking fondly round at the 
little circle of her six children, from the eldest 
married daughter down to the small darling of 
five. Whenever they went to visit their relations 



THE CEABM OF ALGERIAN LIFE. 281 



in France they always longed to get back again 
to Africa, everything seemed so stiff and artificial, 
they said. 

It is not altogether uncommon to hear these 
sentiments from the lips of people who have 
passed a great many years in Algeria in an official 
position. I myself have met with instances. 
Even the colonist, if he has patience to stay long 
enough and his affairs prosper, shares the same 
feeling. A lady we met afterwards on board the 
steamer told us she had just been visiting her 
brother, who had been fifteen years at Philippe- 
ville. During the first few years he was restless, 
and used to talk of realising and returning home, 
but by degrees the wish had worn off ; " and now 
he says," she added, laughing, " that there is no 
country like Algeria." In fact there is a charm 
in the country and its life, which wins even upon 
the French themselves if they remain long enough. 
I scarcely speak so much of Algiers, where the 
life of the French world is modelled on that of 
Paris, and where the society is larger, and there- 
fore necessarily more artificial ; but more of the 
out-stations where, as in India, domestic life has a 
much freer development, and, provided the little 



282 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



society of the place be on good terms, friendships 
are much warmer and more intimate. 

The following morning at seven we started for 
Philippeville, our ultimate destination being the 
mineral springs of Hammam Meskoutin, the 
eighth wonder of the world. It was much as if 
we had gone from London to Brighton in order to 
get to Bath ; but in rainy weather there was no 
choice. We had intended riding across the Atlas, 
a two days' journey ; but after the heavy rain of 
the last ten days, it would have been impossible 
to ford the unbridged swollen rivers, or even to 
get along the deep mud of the unmetalled road. 
So, much to our indignation, we had again to 
betake ourselves to diligences, and traverse exactly 
three sides of a square, via Philippeville, Bone, 
and Gruelma. A journey by day was, however, 
something to be thankful for, although the scenery, 
when once out of sight of Constantine, was nothing 
remarkable ; the Atlas, over which we had to pass 
to reach the sea, having a much tamer character 
than round Algiers, being clothed with pasture and 
young corn at the bottom, the underlying lime- 
stone rock cropping up only at intervals towards 
the rounded summits — rather downs than moun- 



ROMAN BATHS. 



283 



tains. About an hour after starting the vegetation 
suddenly grew richer and more luxuriant ; festoons 
of vines hung from tree to tree, weeping willows 
and mulberries formed a thick bosquet on either 
side, intermingled with the feathery plumes of 
palms, and watered by a clear stream, whose course 
we could trace by the clouds of hot vapour which 
rolled up from its surface ; on its banks lay a little 
village still bearing the Arabic name of " Hamma," 
or Baths. In bygone ages this humble hamlet 
with its mineral springs was the place of " villeg- 
giatura " for the rich citizens of Cirta. 

The sky now began to clear, and the villages 
and trees which at intervals bordered the road 
made it more cheerful. Every now and then 
w T e came upon the works of the Philippeville 
and Constantine railway, which, when com- 
pleted, w r ill be an invaluable boon to the province, 
of which the commerce is already considerable. 
With a good harbour and a line of rail the riches 
of the Tell and the Sahara would soon make their 
way to France, and vice versa, All along the road 
from Philippeville, down even to Batna, we saw 
numberless huge waggons of goods, during the 
day constantly blocking up the passage, during 



284 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



the night drawn up in front of the inn or caravan- 
serai, bereft of horses or masters, but guarded by 
fiercely barking dogs. Many were going south 
with stores^ but we were assured that the course 
of the stream turns north as soon as the tribes of 
the Sahara have arrived, bringing their cattle, 
wool, and dates, &c, and as soon as the harvest is 
reaped. The completion of the railway is announced 
for three years hence. It had already been in 
progress a year and a half, but no one section of 
the whole fifty miles was fit for use ; the engineers 
having begun in a dozen different places. Had 
they commenced systematically at the Philippe- 
ville end, they could have opened it by degrees, 
the engineering difficulties being less on the 
lower level near the sea, and increasing as the 
ground rises into the mountains encompassing 
Constantine. Thus they might have carried on 
their rails and sleepers, and other " plant," and so 
have been spared the heavy expense of forwarding 
it in the cumbrous Mammoth waggons, which we 
constantly met toiling slowly and painfully along. 
Of course I do not allude to great works, such as 
tunnels and bridges, which must be set on foot 
everywhere as soon as possible, in order to be in 



EXCHANGE OF CONFIDENCES. 



285 



readiness, but to the general line. The system, how- 
ever, is truly Algerian. It is so with the Algiers 
and Oran railway, and so even with the roads in 
various parts of the country. 

After crossing the Col El-Kantour, the water- 
shed of the Little Atlas, we stopped to break- 
fast at a small inn, where we met some Algiers 
acquaintances, fellow-countrymen of our travel- 
ling companion. There was something very 
pleasant in pouring out our experiences into 
their ears, scattering their plans to the winds 
as our own had been scattered by the diligence 
bureaux, crushing their hopes of comfort by 
accounts of our forced night-journeys, and alto- 
gether painting their travelling prospects in as 
black colours as possible. It was rather cruel, 
perhaps, as they were already in a very depressed 
condition, hardly recovered from a stormy passage 
of four days (double the usual length) from Algiers 
to Philippeville, when, as one of them remarked, 
the weather was so tempestuous that " the captain 
was obliged to anchor the vessel in the middle of 
the open sea!" — a feat of seamanship for which 
he ought to have been created admiral upon the 
spot. The cry of " Les voyageurs pour Philippeville 



286 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



en voiture," put a stop to our mutual communica- 
tions, and we dashed off again through the mud, a 
description which, however, as regards pace, I 
must mention "en passant," only applies to our 
descent of steep hills. The day was now bright 
and sunshiny, and all looked spring-like. The 
weeping willows, which grow to a very large size 
in Algeria, the ashes and the poplars were a 
beautiful tender green ; wild flowers covered 
the banks and fields — the scarlet anemone, 
white cistus, blue borage, yellow marigold, 
crimson vetch, and masses of rose-coloured con- 
volvulus. As we approached Philippeville the 
country became quite English in appearance. 
Hedgerows and trees bordered the road. Farm- 
houses were dotted about in all directions amid 
large grass meadows. Strange sight to us from 
Algiers, where the ground, if not arable, is a 
wilderness of "palmiers nains," and the cattle 
pasture on the open hiil-side, picking up what 
food they can among the weeds and brushwood. 
Here beautiful rich grass lay at the bottom of 
each flat valley, side by side with corn, and appa- 
rently equally well cared for. Unluckily these 
smiling valleys, like all low ground in Algeria, 



STUCK FAST. 



287 



are feverish, although by drainage they are 
gradually becoming more healthy. On arriving 
at Philippeville our usual fate aiwaited ns : the 
diligence to Bone went by night, and not that 
same evening, but the following, so that we should 
have a whole night and day to spend in this not 
very interesting town. But it was quite in the 
order of our experience to have long weary days 
to pass in places like Batna and Philippeville, 
and to be torn away from spots like Biskra 
before we had had time to enjoy them properly. 
To describe the disgust of our companion at this 
intelligence would be impossible. He tore up 
and down " the Place " in front of the hotel like a 
caged lion. He had all along professed his belief 
in a totally imaginary road, which would have led 
us, he declared, to Hammam Meskoutin without 
passing through Philippeville. This road we had 
demonstrated to him over and over again not to 
be in existence, but it rose again now in his despair 
to confront us, and he declared we must retrace 
our steps towards Constantine, and turn off some- 
where, passing through somewhere else, and finally 
reach Hammam Meskoutin at nightfall. For two 
hours next morning we roamed up and down 



288 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



Philippeville, hunting for an imaginary diligence, 
to convey us along this imaginary road. At last, 
when well-nigh wearied out, we hit on a middle 
course, which was to take a carriage and drive to 
Jemappes, about a third of the way to Bone, and 
there await the diligence, thus securing at least 
some hours of daylight on our journey. We had, 
accordingly, a very pleasant drive, first along the 
well-cultivated valley of the Saf-Saf river, then 
up-hill for some five or six miles. The scenery 
was pretty. We looked down into valleys green 
with corn and pasture, and across rounded hills 
covered with cork forests and brushwood, and 
rolling away one behind the other in lines of 
gigantic waves. Again a profusion of flowers and 
shrubs embellished the foreground — the crimson 
gladiolis edging the roadside; the tall, pink 
mauve shooting up amongst the myrtle and 
cistus, backed by the white heath, often eight or 
ten feet high, just coming into bloom ; the ar- 
butus, with its wax-like blossom, growing in large, 
handsome clumps; while amid them all waved 
an elegant flowering grass three or four feet in 
height. As we mounted up among the hills, 
we lost sight of the cultivated valleys, and were 



THE CORK-TREE. 



2S9 



surrounded on all sides by cork woods, the trees 
bearing evident marks in their blackened trunks 
of having been stripped of their valuable bark 
— no inconsiderable article of Algerian commerce. 
Had the incendiary fires not destroyed such vast 
numbers of the largest trees, the cork of Algeria 
would bear a higher reputation in the market, 
the natural advantages of soil and climate being 
such as to produce a quality in no way inferior to 
the much-prized cork of Spain. The trees are 
stripped every eight or ten years during the 
months of June, July, and August, and from the 
time they are fourteen years old. The first two 
harvests, however, are worth little, but increase 
in value with the age of the tree, and the 
regular and repeated removal of the bark. A 
large tree of 100 years old will often yield 
200 lbs. weight of cork at one time, and even 
some exceptionally fine specimens have been 
known to produce nearly 1000 lbs. weight; but 
the average yield may be estimated at about 
100 lbs. weight per tree. "When it is calcu- 
lated that each tree furnishes from fifteen to 
twenty harvests, according as it approaches the 
age of 200 years, one may almost place the 

u 



200 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



cork by the side of the palm as an indefatigable 
producer. 

Our driver informed us that the more retired 
parts of these wooded mountains were the haunt 
of lions, but did not seem to give much credit to 
the tales which people tell of their being seen on 
the high road by the night diligences. However, 
they do still exist in the neighbourhood, as a Phi- 
lippeville lady whom we afterwards met assured 
us ; a farmer, living four miles off, who supplied 
her with milk and butter, having a few days pre- 
viously come into the town to depose at the Sous- 
prefecture to the existence of three lions, which 
had come down from the woods on the hill above 
the farm, and carried off cattle feeding on the 
outskirts. The driver was full of a history of two 
lions which had been killed lately at Batna ; the 
fame of which exploit had been brought to Phi- 
lippeville by a Polish count who had been spend- 
ing the winter among the Aures mountains and 
in the desert, in the hope of encountering lions, 
and whose huntsman, an old gendarme, had after 
all been the lucky man. On our trip to the south 
the hills had been pointed out to us where Gerard, 
the lion-hunter, had acquired his chief reputation, 



LION-HUNTING. 



291 



and succeeded in driving these beasts far from the 
haunts of men, so that the sport has now become 
much more difficult, though I cannot say it strikes 
me as very dangerous when conducted after the 
present prudent and unadventurous fashion, as 
followed by the count's huntsman. No sooner 
had the rest of the party gone off to hunt gazelles 
in the desert, wearied with waiting for the lions, 
which never came, and leaving the old gendarme 
in charge of part of their kit, than two of the 
long-wished-for strangers were reported to be in 
the neighbourhood. The gendarme accordingly 
set out for the spot where their track had been 
seen ; and, having dug the customary pit, esta- 
blished himself in it, at a short distance from an 
unfortunate calf which had been securely tethered 
and slightly wounded, in order that the scent of 
fresh blood might attract the hungry beasts. In 
due time, shortly after nightfall, the expected 
guests appeared, and, having pounced on the 
wretched animal, were beginning their supper, 
when the huntsman, from his comfortable ambush, 
leisurely put a shell-bullet into each, which did 
his work effectually. 

Panthers, after all, are the beasts most dreaded 



292 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



in Algeria. They are very cunning, lying in wait 
for their prey sometimes for hours. They chiefly, 
of course, attack sheep and other defenceless 
animals, but occasionally fall upon human beings. 
During the winter we had heard of a case occur- 
ring in the province of Oran, where a panther, 
pressed by hunger, attacked a labourer close to a 
village. His calls for assistance brought a sports- 
man to the spot, who shot and wounded the beast, 
when the panther, leaving the first man, rushed 
upon him. A companion sportsman now fired 
successfully, but was immediately attacked and 
killed. The panther, although mortally wounded 
and streaming with blood, had strength enough 
before he expired to give a severe wound to a 
fourth man, who, thinking him quite exhausted 
and dying, approached in order to knock him on 
the head. Out of the four men, two were killed 
on the spot; the third very nearly died of his 
injuries; and the fourth, as I have said, was 
severely wounded. 

Neither lions nor panthers, however, disturbed 
our pleasant afternoon's drive, and shortly after 
reaching the top of the " Col" we saw Jemappes, 
our destination, lying in the middle of a long, 



JEMAPPES. 



293 



green valley, into which we rapidly descended; 
and, after passing among fields of orange-coloured 
marigolds, and blue and yellow wild lupines, en- 
tered the little town. It is situated on a slight 
eminence, a kind of knoll in the centre of the 
valley, not high enough, however, to lift it out of 
the fever-level ; still, its rows of neat whitewashed 
one-storeyed houses looked prosperous enough. 
It is peopled by a colony of Alsatians, settlers 
often to be met with, and who seem to get on far 
better than the pure French. They always call 
themselves Germans, and appear to have the 
thrifty, sober habits of the nation from whom they 
are partly descended. We sat a while in the pretty 
public gardens, adorned with Eoman columns and 
sarcophagi ; walked about ; dined at the nice 
clean little hotel ; and were picked up by the 
Philippeville diligence at half-past ten. On that 
night's sufferings I will not dwell ; suffice to say 
that the coupe was carefully constructed to insure 
the greatest possible amount of discomfort. I 
thought of poor little Xit, the dwarf in Ains- 
worth's " Tower of London," when condemned to 
the torture of the "Scavenger's Daughter;" our 
position being very similar, with nose and knees 



294 



LAST WINTER IX ALGERIA. 



in close proximity, our backs bent like a half- 
02)ened knife. Our companion fared even still 
worse in the interior, with all the windows 
closed — a garlic-imbued neighbour on one side, 
and a heavy child pillowing itself upon his 
other arm. 



BONE. 



295 



CHAPTER XVI. 

THE CITY OF ST. AUGUSTINE. 

Prosperity at last — Bone and Hippo — A busy little town — 
The Great Talabot again — Eoad to Guelma — Aspect of 
the Province of Constantine — Distress in Algeria. 

Arrived at Bone, as it was still early morning, 
we rested a while and then set out to explore the 
place. The town, though cheerful and pleasant- 
looking, is so entirely French in its aspect as to 
offer little attraction to the traveller in search of 
the picturesque. There is scarcely any native 
quarter such as there is at Algiers and Constantine ; 
and we were glad, after mounting the winding 
streets and steep slopes, to find ourselves on the . 
eminence where stands the Kusbah, commanding 
the whole city and surrounding country ; although 
occupied as a fort, and containing a large body of 
troops in its barracks, one can stroll in unforbidden, 
and enjoy the glorious view from its battlements. 



296 LAST WINTER IX ALGERIA. 



There was something in the scene, at first sight, 
which reminded us of Algiers and its neighbour- 
hood. There was the same expanse of bay ; the 
same long plain across beyond it, backed by a 
chain of mountains ; but the lovely curve of the 
shore was wanting; instead of the narrow, hori- 
zontal band of the Mitidja, so valuable a contrast 
to the varied lines of the picture, the plain here 
was undulating, and widened out to the south into 
a triangle : the mountain range was tamer in its 
character. Nearer Bone, which lay just at our 
feet, the resemblance ceased altogether, for the 
low range of hills which, like the ridge of Mus- 
tapha Superieur, rose from this side of the plain, 
instead of sweeping round the edge of the bay 
and coming along at the back of the town, 
stretched away to the right, leaving a large flat 
valley between it and Bone. Turning our backs 
to the sea we found the valley reaching all round 
behind the heights on which the town and Kusbah 
were built, and formed into a kind of basin by 
the steep sides of the Djebel Edour and other out- 
lying spurs of the Atlas. Falling into the har- 
bour were two rivers : near the larger, the Sey bouse, 
a group of wooded knolls marks the site of the 



ST. AUGUSTINE. 



297 



Carthaginian Ubbo, later the Roman Hippo, or 
Hippone, the city of St. Augustine, which has 
given its mutilated name to Bone. Next morn- 
ing we walked over there, a stroll of barely more 
than half an hour. The massive ruins of immense 
cisterns, and a few scattered fragments of masonry, 
are all that now remain of the former magnificence 
of Hippo, once covering an extent of nearly a hun- 
dred and fifty acres. Like most of the North- 
African colonies it rose to splendour as the parent 
city neared its fall. Like most of these colonies, 
also, it was the seat of an episcopate, and as such 
its name is familiar to the Christian world, St. 
Augustine having been among its bishops. Here 
he wrote his " Confessions ;" here he reigned less 
prelate than guardian saint during a period of 
thirty-five years, — years of its greatest glory. Car- 
thage paled before it, and from holding the first 
rank among the North African colonial cities, sank 
into secondary importance. The death of St. 
Augustine, in a.d. 430, was, however, but the signal 
for greater misfortunes. The following year Bone 
fell a prey to the Vandals, and two centuries later 
the Arabs completed the work of destruction. A 
bronze statue of the holy bishop stands on the 



298 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



brow of the hill, looking out over his diocese, once 
more in Christian hands, and once more rising into 
prosperity. The modern town of Bone is the 
most flourishing in all Algeria, and, indeed, is 
admitted by the least sanguine to have a "bel 
avenir" in store. Its exportations of cereals, 
oil, leather, wool, and iron-ore, are already very 
considerable ; and now, since the January of this 
year, 1867, the heavy and suicidal tonnage-duty 
of half-a-crown a ton on every foreign vessel 
entering the ports of Algeria, having been abo- 
lished, chiefly owing to the representations of our 
own Mr. Cobden, a wider prospect opens before 
this stirring little town, the natural outlet of the 
productions of the whole of the eastern part of the 
province. Its harbour, however, needs great im- 
provement, which, unlike that of Philippeville, it 
is perfectly capable of receiving ; and, when this 
is effected, and a branch line connects it with the 
Constantine and Philippeville Railway, now in 
progress, all the commerce of the entire province 
will flow towards Bone. But this brilliant future 
is yet distant. 

Again, at Bone the name of Talabot sounded 
in our ears : the rich iron-mines in the neigh- 



THE GREAT TALABOT. 



299 



bourhood, yielding seventy-five per cent, of metal, 
were his. It was rumoured that he had offered 
to take the Constantine Railway into his hands, 
and to make the branch to which I have alluded 
above, and bring his iron-ore, now carried by 
private tramways, down to the water's edge. His 
long four-masted steamers lay anchored in the 
harbour; his name was on everyone's lips; the 
city of Bone evidently looked upon him as its 
genius; people spoke of him in awe-struck accents 
as of some omnipotent sovereign ; they told of his 
triumphal progress through the province, of the 
splendid fete given in his honour at Bone ; one 
lady, indeed, becoming quite poetically eloquent 
in her description — "C'etait merveilleux! c'etait 
etourdissant ! c'etait feerique! des feux d'artifice, 
des illuminations ! " and, grand climax — " des toi- 
lettes — mais fraiches, mais elegantes ! " No wonder 
the Great Talabot is reported to have wept with 
emotion. 

We quitted Bone with regret, feeling that a week 
or two would not be ill-spent in exploring its beau- 
tiful neighbourhood, intersected by excellent roads. 
The excursion up Mount Edour, 3000 feet above the 
sea-level, is said to be very fine ; so, also, the drive 



3°° 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



westward along the coast towards Cap de Garde. 
We left for Guelma by a day-diligence fortunately, 
starting at eleven a.m., and enjoyed our seven 
hours' journey exceedingly. Again our road lay 
through wide cultivated valleys dotted with farm- 
houses and bordered by gently sloping hills. The 
whole appearance of the country here, as over all 
the Tell of Constantine, was very unlike the pro- 
vince of Algiers — the colours less vivid, the forms 
more rounded. Instead of distinct chains of often 
rugged mountains, rising like the Great and Little 
Atlas from the large level plains of the Chelif 
and the Mitidja, here valley and mountain were 
intermingled ; one valley opening into another 
with a gradual rise. Instead of horizontal lines 
and varied angles, an infinity of curves — tamer 
and less striking, according to my taste, but still 
beautiful in their way. The vegetation, too, was 
less Oriental. The prickly pear, the aloe, and 
the dwarf-palm being rarely visible even in the 
wilder parts. The absence of the latter, the pre- 
dominant weed all over the west of Algeria, is a 
great boon to the cultivator, as the wild artichoke, 
which takes its place, is infinitely less ineradicable. 
It is a curious fact that the two plants have an 



GENERAL ASPECT OF THE COUNTRY. 



almost distinct limit near the river Chelif, a 
little to the west of the meridian of Algiers ; 
the presence of either out of its own region 
is only accidental. All around us were large 
tracts of corn-land and pasture; the latter, per- 
haps, not quite so " clean " as our farmers 
would like, some fields being almost covered with 
wild artichoke and asphodel. But the artist at 
any rate would have revelled in the gorgeous 
colouring of the masses of spring flowers on 
which our eyes rested — the three primary colours 
in close proximity. A carpet of blue dwarf con- 
volvulus lay on either hand, edged on the further 
side by a broad band of yellow buttercups, and 
bordered in the foreground by a narrow strip of 
scarlet anemones running along the road-side. 

About an hour and a half before reaching 
Guelma, when passing the water-shed of the 
Little Atlas, an old Roman road intersected ours. 
We could trace it for some way going straight on 
its course to Guelma, the Eoman Calama, which 
shone as a white speck on the distant hills, and 
towards which we were wending after the more 
circuitous but pleasanter fashion of modern en- 
gineering. Nearly at the bottom of the descent 



302 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



a wild tangle of vine and oleander, embowering a 
large stone piscina of clear bubbling water, marks 
the site of Ham mam Berda, another of the deli- 
cious spots where the old Eomans ruralized. In 
the hollow of the valley we came upon the Sey- 
bouse, shallower than at Bone, and shrunk to a 
quarter the size, but its wide stony bed showed of 
w r hat it could be capable. On the south bank 
of the river the ground rose gradually, and 
about twenty minutes brought us to the gates 
of Guelma. Not only all the French towns in 
Algeria are walled, but the villages also, and 
one enters a small hamlet of 200 inhabitants 
through an imposing gateway flanked by stout 
walls; no mere freak of military fancy, but a 
stern necessity in case of attack. Having secured 
rooms at the exceptionally clean Hotel d'Urriel on 
the chief " Place," we hurried out to see the town 
and the sunset. 

Standing as Guelma does upon a raised plat- 
form, it commands the whole valley of the Sey- 
bouse for a long distance on either hand, till it is 
lost in the folds of the hills. Behind us rose the 
Djebel Mahouna, upon whose lowest slopes we 
were standing; directly opposite were the hills 



IMPORTANCE OF GUELMA. 



303 



through which we had passed, now deepening 
from lilac to purple, against a saffron sky. We 
had but little time to explore the town, but caught 
glimpses through the gathering gloom of a Eoman 
archway and other fragments of masonry. We 
were able, however, on our return the following 
afternoon, to visit the remains of the Theatre, 
a semi-circular building adjoining the modem 
ramparts. The position of Guelma is of great 
strategic value. It lies on the line of defence of 
the Lesser Atlas, guarding the southern entrance 
to the valleys and plains of the coast. Its mili- 
tary importance, the fertility of the surrounding 
country, together with the completion of the direct 
road to Constantine now in progress, which will 
thus place it on the highway from that capital to 
Bone, will eventually, no doubt, cause the modest- 
looking Guelma of to-day to develop into a large 
and flourishing city, like the Calama of the past. 

Next morning, at half-past six, we started in a 
small light carriage for the Baths of Hammam 
Meskoutin, a delightful drive up the valley of the 
Seybouse, winding away westward, and growing by 
degrees narrower and more picturesque. Every- 
where the same rich cultivation gave pleasure to 



304 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA, 



the eye, unmixed with pain, unhaunted by the 
ghosts of fever-stricken colonists who have sunk 
under the miasma of the low valleys and plains. 
Here, at a considerable elevation above the sea 
level, a wide expanse of sloping ground, drained 
by the river which runs far below, secures a 
healthy climate. The soil on the hill-side may 
be a trifle less rich than the alluvial deposits 
of the western plains, but the heavier rainfall 
renders Constantine the most fertile of the three 
provinces. Indeed, we could not fail to remark 
all over the province the absence of that misery 
and starvation which had latterly become so pre- 
valent among the poorer natives of the province 
of Algiers, and, as we heard, in even a more 
aggravated form among those of Oran. Both 
men and beasts seemed in better condition, and 
one heard none of those heartrending stories 
which constantly used to come to our ears 
when at Algiers, where out in the country 
numbers of the natives were literally dying of 
hunger. 

A gentleman we once met in the train, told 
us, while out shooting in a lonely part one day, 
he kept constantly hearing a rustling in the 



STARVING WOMAN. 305 



bushes, and once or twice caught sight of a 
human figure which seemed to be dogging his 
steps. As he was entirely alone he did not feel 
altogether comfortable, having heard that want 
had lately driven the Arabs sometimes to attack 
travellers. It was getting dusk moreover, and, 
although he had his gun, he felt he might easily 
be surprised from some ambush. Suddenly, coming 
out of a ravine, he saw a tall white form at the 
head, standing out against the sky. As he ap- 
proached, it disappeared like a ghost. He was 
determined to investigate the matter, and, pushing 
forward, discovered a woman stretched out mo- 
tionless under a tree. She was so emaciated and 
ghastly-looking, that at first he thought she must 
be suffering from fever, and asked her if she were 
ill. The poor creature in a faint voice murmured, 
" Moi pas malade ; moi mourir de faim." In- 
stantly turning out his pockets, he found the 
remains of his lunch, an orange and some frag- 
ments of bread. With flashing eyes she raised 
herself and tore them from his hand, devouring 
the orange, skin and all ; then throwing her 
arms round his knees in a passionate embrace, 
she broke into the most extravagant expres- 

x 



5o6 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



sions of gratitude, — half Arabic, half French. 
When he further bestowed on her a small sum of 
money, it was all he could do to get away. He 
said he should never forget the piteous sight — the 
grovelling joy of the poor wretch at such trifling 
assistance. Another day also he met a poor Arab 
family travelling along the high road: father, mo- 
ther and baby, and a skinny hollow-eyed boy of 
about twelve. They were just passing the cottage 
of a colonist, in front of which was a heap of 
cinders, with half an over-ripe decayed orange 
lying on the top. The boy rushed towards the 
heap, snatched up the fragment of orange, and 
greedily swallowed it, while his parents followed 
his movements with hungry eyes. After hearing 
this and similar tales of want, we never went out 
to walk in the country without filling our pockets 
with bread ; and many and many a time has a bit 
of bread been thankfully received by some tall 
gaunt Arab in tattered burnous. In the province 
of Oran the country had become quite dangerous 
from the misery of the native inhabitants. A 
friend, who returned in the early spring from a 
tour through that province, spoke of the daily 
risings on the frontier, and frequent assassinations 



A HAPPY VALLEY. 



307 



further north, all originating in the same cause. 
Starvation had rendered the Arabs desperate. 
The revolt of 1865, the scene of which was chiefly 
in the south of Oran, had occasioned great dis- 
tress. Flocks, and herds, and crops had been 
appropriated by the French troops, and the land 
had been in too unsettled a state to allow of 
much cultivation. The ravages of the locusts 
and the drought of last year were the cul- 
minating point, and everything rose to famine 
prices. Although things had not reached this 
extreme in the province of Algiers, still, as I 
have shown, there was misery enough ; and it 
was a relief to see a more prosperous condition 
prevailing. 

Along the valley of the Seybouse the scene 
was truly smiling: beautiful green pastures and 
still greener corn-fields stretched away on either 
hand, large comfortable-looking farm-houses ap- 
peared here and there: nowhere had we seen 
colonization show so much promise. No wonder 
that we began to prophecy a brilliant future 
for Guelma and its neighbourhood. Our en- 
thusiasm, however, was soon checked, as was our 
progress over the villainous road over which we 



3 o8 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



advanced with about as much ease as across a 
ploughed field of clay land. The late rain had 
rendered it almost impassible. Through deep 
ruts and bog-like tracts, "poached" by the feet of 
cattle, our poor horse struggled. Of course we 
had constantly to dismount and pick our way 
across the fields. Is it possible, we said, that, as 
we are told, an omnibus goes to and from the 
Baths along this road ? The driver, a youth of 
not very brilliant intellect, assured us it did 
during the season, but not every day. " How 
often ?" we asked. Well, it depended on whether 
there was any one to go in it ; if not, it stayed 
at Guelma till passengers made their appearance. 
" But supposing some one at the Baths wished to 
get away, what would he do ?" Such a contin- 
gency did not seem to have occurred to our young 
coachman, nor indeed to any one concerned. He 
grinned as if he rather enjoyed the thoughts of 
the hapless patient waiting day after day, vainly 
hoping to get back to the outer world from these 
wilds. Roads are evervwhere in Algeria the weak 
point. It is true this was in the transitional 
state of conversion into the "Route Imperiale 
de Constantine," a phase not only unpleasant, 



3°9 



as all such phases are, but bidding fair to last 
for many a long day. It was the old story. Of 
the 100 kilometres between Constantine and 
Guelina, some fifty detached portions were in pro- 
gress at once, all useless from their isolation ; the 
two towns would be no nearer till the whole was 
completed. Not omitting a couple of small boys of 
ten and eleven, we estimated the staff of workmen 
employed along a distance of seventeen kilometres 
(between ten and eleven miles) at nine individuals. 
Of these, two were hard at work completing a 
bridge, the remainder distributed in three different 
places ! 

Shortly after leaving Guelma we met crowds of 
Arabs coming into the weekly market. Numbers 
of them were mounted in couples on stout mules, 
an animal which the modern Arab much affects 
as carrying heavier loads on less food than a 
horse. Encouraged, if not introduced by the 
French, the breeding of them is growing daily 
more extensive, and the mule gradually edging 
the horse off the Algerian stage. A lively ima- 
gination may be pardoned for picturing a time 
when the remains of the Arab Barb, the mixed 
race peculiar to the country, may be found by 



3io 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



some future geologist in the alluvial deposits of 
the Seybouse or Chelif, and numbered among 
the extinct races. An Arab riding on a mule 
certainly does not look imposing: his legs hang 
down in an undignified manner, and when two 
men, with perhaps a boy in addition, are jogging 
along on the same beast, one has great difficulty 
in picturing them as brothers of the wild Arab of 
the Desert. Gradually we lost sight of them, the 
road became more lonely, the valley narrowed, 
the banks of the river grew more precipitous, the 
mountains closed in upon us. Forests of olive 
clothed the hill-side ; clumps of the same tree 
were scattered over the lower slopes, giving them 
the aspect of a park. Just in the prettiest situa- 
tion on a high bank overhanging the river, we 
came to a house looking like a gentleman's 
country-seat. It was, however, a deserted orphan- 
age, from which the children had been drafted off 
into other asylums. It looked so tempting in its 
beautiful position, with a view all down the valley, 
that we quite envied the French gentlemen who 
we heard had lately bought it from Government. 
Away in the distance the various bends of the 
river glittered in the sunshine, amid sloping fields 



NATURE'S GARDEN. 



3" 



of tender green corn and sweet-flowering beans, 
and joined by numerous streams from the converg- 
ing valleys, their course traceable by the thick 
hedge of oleander or fringe of feathery tamarisk. 
A few large single olives were scattered about the 
foreground, while at our feet was a natural par- 
terre of trailing pink convolvulus intermixed w T ith 
a pale blue starlike flower, and the ever-abundant 
saffron-coloured marigold. 



312 LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



CHAPTER XVII 

LES BAINS MAUDITS ! 

The spectres — An African Spa— A boiling waterfall — Fish in 
hot water — The arrested wedding — An Arab legend — 
Properties of the springs — Little Paul — Farewell to Algeria. 

At length our road leaving the " Route Imperiale " 
and the river Seybouse, turned up a wooded valley 
by the side of a smaller stream. The short green 
turf was gemmed with anemones, scarlet, yellow, 
and pink, the air was scented by the yellow jas- 
mine and the Spanish broom. Further on, the 
unwonted sights of wild apple-trees garlanded with 
wild vine, degenerate descendants from old Roman 
stock, announced to eyes observant of Algerian 
vegetation the neighbourhood of the Baths, the 
Aquae Tibilitinse of the first centuries of the Chris- 
tian era. Soon huge clouds of vapour rolled 
towards us, filling all the bottom of the valley, 
parting at intervals and discovering giant forms 



THE ACCURSED BATHS. 



313 



grey and ghost-like, like dwellers in Dante's 
"Inferno." As we approached nearer, they re- 
solved themselves into immense cones from twenty 
to thirty feet in height, and about the same in 
circumference, formed by the deposits of the hot 
springs. Away to our right we heard the rushing 
of a cascade ; and passing onwards, rising out of 
the steam, we shortly alighted at a small bungalow- 
looking dwelling standing on a gentle eminence. 
This, of course, we took to be the hotel of which 
people both at Bone and Gruelma had told us. 
Half a dozen little w r ooden ^pavilions painted in 
stripes like bathing-machines looked like cafes, 
while through the trees across the river, above the 
boiling caldron we distinguished a large building, 
evidently the " Etablissement" or " Kurhaus !" 
That the season had not begun was apparent from 
the intense stillness and deserted look of the place. 
Still as our informants had said, " TJn hotel ? mais 
oui ! Des cafes ? mais oui, vous trouverez tout la 
bas," we deemed the spot some slumbering Aix or 
Ems, which would at any rate partially awaken at 
our summons. We were just entering the seeming 
hotel, somewhat cavalierly calling out " Gar£on !" 
in a loud voice, as that individual did not present 



3H 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



himself ; when a lady appeared and bade us wel- 
come as the wife of the director, Dr. Moreau 
(absent for the day), begging us to enter and rest. 

After proper apologies we soon found that the 
hotel existed as yet only on paper, the cafes only 
in the imagination of our informants ; that the 
imposing "Kursaal" w T as the military establish- 
ment of baths, a poor, tumble-dow^n place ; that 
the bungalow and bathing-machines were the 
embryo bathing establishment of " civil" patients, 
capable of containing some five-and-thirty persons 
at the very utmost. * However, the grand deside- 
ratum, an excellent breakfast, was furnished just 
as at an hotel, and I have no doubt that as it was 
out of the season, beds might have been procured. 
During the bathing-time there is not room enough 
even for the patients, who are every year becoming 
more numerous. Madame Moreau told us that 
last year upwards of a hundred were camped out 
in tents. The cure lasts thirty days, the season 
continuing during nine months, from October to 
June ; practically, however, it seems to be in 
abeyance during the winter, as we found no 
bathers were expected till the 15th of April. 

Descending the grassy slopes, after having 



THE SPECTRE CONES. 



315 



finished our breakfast, we stepped down upon a 
bed of what looked like limestone rock. In places 
it was hard and weather-beaten, and grey with 
lichens ; in others soft and elastic to the tread, 
like partially-cooled asphalte pavement. All this 
we learnt was the deposit of the springs. Its 
surface was uneven; sometimes rising in broad- 
based, low pyramids, over which we could walk, 
or in round tumulus-like mounds ; sometimes 
shooting up into the high slender cones we had 
seen peering through the steam-clouds. Many of 
the lower mounds and pyramids were perforated 
by a hole at the top, giving egress to a tiny jet of 
water a few inches in height. We had to pick 
our way carefully among little rills of boiling 
water, running in milk-white beds. Workmen 
were widening these in places, for the better sup- 
ply of the baths ; and wherever the inner part of 
the rock was laid bare, it was the same creamy 
colour, the calcareous deposit showing in its original 
state, the grey coating being the result of exposure 
to the air. A wall of vapour a short distance to 
our left defined the position of a wide cascade, at 
the top of which we were standing. In spite of its 
roar, however, we could distinguish when bending 



3i6 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



close to the ground the rushing and gurgling of 
innumerable streams, imprisoned beneath the crust 
of deposit. Most of these find an exit close to the 
top of the cascade, and thus are no longer con- 
demned to force their way in a perpendicular 
direction through any small orifice. As long as 
this exit is open to them no more cones will of 
course be formed. The greater number of these 
higher up the stream show that the natural outlet 
of the water was not originally equal to its body ; 
the jet, having found its way out, deposited, in 
running over the edges of the aperture, a sedi- 
ment, which rose as the water rose, till the latter 
having attained the height of its original source 
among the hills, could no longer scale the prison- 
walls of its own construction, and had to seek an 
issue elsewhere, leaving the cone standing "high 
and dry." 

Of course Arab imagination has not failed to 
account for the presence of these strange forms in 
a way at once poetic and superstitious. " A brother 
and sister," so runs the legend, "having been 
brought up together under one roof, the young 
girl developed such extraordinary beauty that her 
brother began to feel for her a warmer affection 



AN ARAB LEGEND. 



3*7 



than the laws of nature or of Mahomnied sanctioned ; 
their wealthy but unscrupulous parents, tempted 
by the thoughts of consolidating the riches of the 
family, favoured their union, in spite of the re- 
monstrances of the elders of the tribe and the 
marabout of the neighbourhood ; the Caid even 
was assassinated, as a penalty for offering unpalat- 
able advice. The marriage-day was fixed, the 
family and friends were gathered together, the 
festivities had commenced, when, suddenly, the 
earth began to heave and groan, flames shot forth 
from the ground, the river left its bed, and the 
whole guilty assembly was overwhelmed by an 
awful convulsion of nature. When calm was re- 
stored, the bride and bridegroom, their parents, 
the dancing-girls, the camels and tents, and all 
the members of the tribe present, were seen stand- 
ing turned into stone." A group of fine cones, 
standing a little apart from the rest, are pointed 
out as the luckless couple, the Caid pronouncing 
the blessing, and the wicked parents. The pyra- 
midal cones, mentioned above, are looked upon as 
the tents, others as kneeling camels, &c, while 
little dice-shaped pieces of calcareous matter and 
grains of the same, found in the springs, are 



3 i8 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



gravely regarded as petrified " hammis " and " kous- 
kous ; " dishes prepared to grace the bridal feast* 

We now retraced our steps, following the course 
of the stream, which we crossed on a wooden bridge 
immediately opposite the waterfall. It was the 
strangest cascade nature ever formed. Imagine 
a slightly sloping wall some fifty feet in height, 
and sixty or seventy feet in breadth, of flake- white 
shining rock, tinged here and there red, from the 
ferruginous deposits of the springs, or from textile 
plants laid there to steep by the natives ; over 
this red and white marble-like mass torrents of 
boiling water rushing, in colour a milkfall rather 
than a w 7 aterfall ; columns of rainbow-tinted spray 
rising from the bottom to join the clouds of vapour 
thrown off into the air from the highest and hot- 
test part ; the bright African sun lighting up the 
whole into a brilliant focus of light. Madame 
Moreau pointed out to us the strange phenomenon 
of fish swimming about in apparently boiling water 
in the stream below, into which we dared not even 
dip our finger, the fact being that the hot water 
constantly falling fresh from its boiling source 
remained floating on the top, being lighter because 
hotter than the stratum below, which had already 



THE GREAT PISCINA. 



319 



cooled, by contact with the earth, to a temperature 
agreeable to fishy taste. A skilful angler, who 
had any knowledge of cookery, might thus land 
his dinner ready boiled ! As for the vegetable 
kingdom it appeared to thrive wonderfully in its 
hot bath, oleanders growing in rich luxuriance in 
the very bed of the stream, while tall lush grass 
fringed its edge. 

A few small piscinae, which are still used, show- 
that there were springs in the same spot in Eoman 
days, but the head-quarters of the Eoman bathing 
establishment were much higher up, where the 
greater mass of springs then existed. As the bed 
of the stream became choked up with deposit, the 
springs naturally descended, so that the modern 
baths are nearly a mile distant from the original 
ones. Later in the day, having strolled up the 
valley among a grove of splendid olives, we came 
on a number of ruins, among them the almost 
perfect remains of a large piscina, surrounded by 
a stone bench, and capable of containing 500 pa- 
tients at once. Two or three springs still linger 
in their ancient haunts, one nearly cold, issuing 
out of the earth, quite close to another of boiling 
water. The temperature of the hottest of the 



320 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



sources, those of the cascade, is 203° Fahrenheit, 
exceeded only by that of two in the whole world, 
I believe — the Geysers in Iceland, and Las Trin- 
cheras in South America. Their properties being 
of two distinct kinds, they will bear at the same 
time comparison with widely-differing mineral 
waters in Europe, the ferruginous springs resem- 
bling those of Spa or Pyrmont, while the varieties 
of the saline class assimilate themselves to those 
of Eaux Bonnes, Leuk, and Aix-les-Bains. Allevia- 
tion, if not cure, is thus offered to a large propor- 
tion of the " ills that flesh is heir to ;" chiefly, 
however, to gout, rheumatism, sciatica, neuralgia, 
cutaneous and glandular affections, ulcers, and 
gunshot wounds. 

The privilege of dispensing the waters to others, 
beside military patients, together with a concession 
of upwards of 3000 acres, was granted to Dr. 
Moreau some seven years back ; but want of funds 
and enterprise has hitherto confined his efforts 
within very humble limits. A Yankee would long 
ere this have made the establishment a " first- 
rater," probably on credit ; and quite as probably 
would have speedily become bankrupt A com- 
pany too, or the Great Talabot himself, might 



AN AFRICAN SPA. 



321 



have called into existence the splendid Kurhaus, 
figuring in a lithographic drawing, kindly given 
to us by Madame Moreau : but as long as the whole 
civil European population of Algeria numbers only 
some 200,000, the supply would far exceed the 
demand, and the investment scarcely pay. The 
sanguine, indeed, have predicted the development 
of Hammam Meskoutin into a rival Vichy or Spa, 
to which patients will flock from all quarters of 
Europe, tempted by the warm climate, which 
renders the cure possible during a much longer 
period than in European baths, the three summer 
months alone being unsuitable. While, however, 
a two days' and two nights' voyage across the 
capricious Mediterranean separates the one conti- 
nent from the other, this dream of the enthusiastic 
advocates of Hammam Meskoutin will hardly be 
realized. It must depend on the colony itself : if 
the number of colonists increases, the proportion 
of patients of course will increase also. It is only 
one among a thousand subjects involved in the 
character of the colonial government ; till that is 
changed, and colonization no longer virtually re- 
pressed, the civil establishment of these valuable 
baths must, at the risk of bankruptcy, restrain its 

Y 



322 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



ambition, and rest contented with its bungalow 
and bathing-machines. 

The situation of Hammam Meskoutin is charm- 
ing in the extreme. Grassy slopes shelve away 
on either side of the valley, dotted with clumps of 
magnificent olives, carpeted with brilliant flowers, 
and rising into lofty hills, partly clothed with dense 
olive and lentisk forests, partly green with pasture 
and young corn. Towards their summit the lime- 
stone stands out bare and grey, and even crops out 
lower down amid the turf. On examining some 
of the latter upcropping rocks, in appearance 
resembling those on many an English hillside, we 
saw distinctly that they were the deposit of hot 
springs — just like the cones and pyramids near 
the cascade. One seemed thus to gain a glimpse 
of the mighty workings of nature throughout long 
ages, fusing the rocks in her vast laboratory. Our 
German companion gave utterance to some very 
singular geological hypotheses ; their boldness and 
originality forbid my quoting them ; indeed, my 
husband having exhausted his usual responses : 
" C'est probable, c'est possible !" arrived at the 
climax — " Ce n'est pas impossible," which polite 
falsehood will, I trust, not be laid to his charge. 



A LITTLE GEN TL EM AX. 



323 



The olives, of which I have made such frequent 
mention on my journey, are really a great feature 
in Algeria, covering altogether nearly 140,000 
acres* They are mostly wild ; but as every year 
fresh trees are grafted, the country will eventually 
find in them one of its greatest and most stable 
sources of revenue. Being indigenous, they flourish 
accordingly. Madame Moreau showed us some 
beautiful oil manufactured on the spot from her 
own olives. They were really splendid specimens 
of trees, not so picturesque as the gnarled and 
knotted old trunks of Tivoli or Mentone, but in 
the prime of life, with immense rounded heads of 
branches developed to the fulness of perfection. 

We were accompanied on our ramble over the 
estate by her son, a clever little fellow not quite 
eight years old, very handsome, who explained 
everything in the most intelligent manner. French 
children are generally more precocious than English 
when quite young, although they remain stationary 
for some time, and at fifteen are much more child- 
ish in many of their ways than English boys and 
girls. To hear the youngster talking about the 



* Vide Macarthy's " Geographic de FAlgeria." 



324 LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



Bomans and their piscinae, one would have thought 
he was a big schoolboy of fourteen at least. At 
the same time he was a thorough boy in his 
pursuits, showing us a hole where he had killed a 
porcupine by dropping a heavy stone upon it, and 
looking in all the ditches and streams for frogs, 
of which he said he was very fond. He spoke 
contemptuously, however, of the frogs of the place ; 
they were not nearly so good or so fat as those at 
Bone, where he used to catch a large dish in no 
time. He was most polite and attentive to us, and 
did the honours like a grown-up man. Altogether^ 
we were charmed with little Paul. He was very 
proud of the thoughts of soon possessing a real gun, 
for which he was saving up his money ; but when 
my husband wished to hasten its purchase by 
giving him a " tip," as one would to an English 
boy, he drew himself up, waved his small hand, 
and said with dignity : " Impossible, monsieur ! 
mille remerciments, mais je ne puis rien accepter." 
We were quite sorry to bid adieu to our courteous 
little host; but we had already lingered all too 
long in this "happy valley," oblivious of Boman 
antiquities awaiting us at Guelma. The orange 
tinge stealing into the golden sunshine warned us 



^YHAT FRANCE HAS DONE. 



325 



to depart, and we reached our destination just in 
time to dine and pack our few belongings in 
our bags and ourselves in the diligence for 
Bone. 

"Our last night in the diligence" was a wel- 
come reflection, involving, however, the saddening 
thought of our last night in Algeria. The few 
months we had spent in the country had sufficed 
to render it very dear to us — dearer than many a 
land where all was perfect and prosperous, whose 
present was no struggle, whose future no problem. 
To any one whom the fair exterior moves to look 
beneath the surface, Algeria discovers not only 
many a blemish, but much radical evil, with a 
vitality strong enough however to render the hope 
for " good times" something more than a mere 
whisper of the imagination. 

All errors and shortcomings notwithstanding, it 
is a grand thing to see a whole country reclaimed 
from Mahommedan power. France has fulfilled a 
great mission, and performed a signal service to 
civilization. We may look forward to a not far 
distant time when Tunis and Morocco, too, shall 
have passed out of Mussulman hands, and Christian 
Sees spring up along nearly the whole North 



326 



LAST WINTER IN ALGERIA. 



African Coast, as in the first centuries of our era ; 
for the tide of Mahommedanism is rolling back all 
over Europe, and has been ebbing for centuries. 
Wherever the Mahommedan religious policy ceases 
to be aggressive, it must retrogade. Since the blow 
dealt by Charles Martel, Spain, South Italy, Greece, 
have slipped from the Mahommedan grasp. Even 
in Asia the great Indian Empire has been torn 
from them, followed in Africa, in later years by 
Algeria (where not even the genius of Abd el- 
Kader could stay the course of the current), and 
still more recently by Belgrade. Turkey is merely 
propped, up by the jealousy of rival European 
powers ; while the emancipation of Crete and the 
Greek islands, as well as the conquest of Bokhara,* 
are only a question of time. 

Some such ideas as these were in our minds as 
we steamed out of the harbour of Bone, yearning 
to look into the future of a land so beautiful 
and so gifted. The moon silvered the water 
and glistened on the battlements of the Kusbah ; 
Talabot's great four-masters lay black and mo- 

* Since writing the above, the Russian conquest of Bokhara 
has made rapid strides, the greater part of the country being 
now occupied by the invaders. 



VALE I 



327 



tionless in their anchorage. Mount Edour stood 
out a dark mass against the liquid sky. The 
waves seemed to glide rapidly from under us, and 
the coast to float further and further away in 
the distance as we went on our course, leaving 
the shadows sleeping under the olive trees, and 
the moonbeams resting on the white houses along 
the shores of Algeria. 



APPENDIX. 



PRACTICAL HINTS. 

The visitor may spend at least five months in Algiers: 
arriving in November, and leaving the end of April, or even 
the beginning of May. By avoiding exposure to the sun, he 
will not find the weather too hot in the latter months, espe- 
cially if living in the country. 

The voyage to Algiers from Marseilles is, in ordinary 
weather, about 48 hours. The steamers of the Messageries 
Imperiale are the best and most comfortable. They leave 
Marseilles every Tuesday and Saturday at two p.m. The 
first-class fare is 95 francs ; 100 kilogrammes of luggage are 
allowed to each passenger. 

The steamers of the Navigation Mixte start from Marseilles 
every Thursday. Their first-class fare is only 79 francs, but 
they are smaller boats, less well fitted up. 

ALGIERS. 

Hotels : — D* Orient — Be la Eegence — If Europe. 

The Hotel oV Orient is a handsome, well-arranged, clean 
house, managed in a superior manner. It is the only hotel 
which is really on the sea; the "Regence" being in the 
Place du Gouvernement, and the " Europe/' although facing 



33Q 



APPENDIX. 



the sea, standing far back, looking over waste ground, the 
future site of houses which will, no doubt, be commenced ere 
long. Apartments in the " Orient " are handsomely furnished 
and comfortable. The food, good and plentiful. It has 
a large reading-room supplied with the French papers, 
" Galignani," " Revue des Deux Mondes," &c. It is the only 
hotel which has a table d'hote. We were a party of five, and 
had two double-bedded, one single-bedded room, and a salon ; 
all on the first-floor and communicating with one another. 
The salon and one bedroom facing the sea. For apartments, 
board, service, lights, and wine, we paid at the rate of 11£ 
francs a day each. N.B. — In every instance, unless it is men- 
tioned to the contrary, I give the prices we ourselves paid, 
from which people can form their own judgment. 

The Hotel de la Regence has a few handsomely-furnished 
apartments ; but the remainder, together with the entrance 
and passages, are shabby and uninviting. We spent one night 
there on our first arrival. Its aspect, which is due south, 
offers one advantage to invalids when the weather is cold, 
which however it rarely is. We never had or required a fire 
at the " Orient," and found the sunshine up to twelve o'clock 
quite sufficient, as it generally gets too warm in the afternoon. 

The Hotel oV Europe has the same aspect as the " Orient," 
viz., east, or rather south-east, and is, I believe, very com- 
fortable and quiet ; but it lacks the freshness and smartness 
of the more modern " Orient," which, originally in the Place 
du Gouvernement, has only been installed in its new building 
four or five years. 

It is advisable to write before leaving France, and engage 
rooms at the hotel selected. 



APPENDIX. 



331 



Apartments are very scarce, and not to be recommended. 
The best are taken up by officials and their families. 

Villas in the Country. — Various prices. The rent of a fur- 
nished one we knew, occupied by friends, standing in a large 
garden with shrubberies, and accommodating a family of six, 
besides servants, was 1000 francs per month, £40. This, 
however, was rather dear ; there are many villas to be had, 
nearly the same size, at prices ranging from 500 to 800 francs 
per month. It is well to be very cautious and not take a villa 
too hurriedly, on arrival, without finding out all about it from 
some resident. Many villas are old Moorish houses, very 
chilly; others have been newly built, and not yet occupied, 
&c, &c. Musfcapha Superieur is the best situation; El Biar 
being too high and exposed, and Mustapha Inferieur and St.- 
Eugene too low. 

MISCELLANEOUS INFOEMATION. 

Climate. — The climate of Algiers is dry and exciting, and 
therefore not favourable to persons suffering from diseases of 
the heart or nerves, or of apoplectic habits ; but it is wonder- 
ful^ beneficial to lymphatic temperaments, to rheumatic, 
gouty, and bronchial patients, and to consumption in the 
earlier stages. The contrasts of temperature are much less 
than on the northern coast of the Mediterranean. No keen 
mistral searches the invalid's frame, while a bright fierce sun 
is shining. The sunset is unaccompanied by any sudden chill, 
the air growing gradually cooler ; although, it must be re- 
membered, the change is more apparent than in England, 
but much less so than in Italy and the south of France. The 
climate of Malaga is the one we know most resembling that 
of Algeria, but the high winds of March render the former 



332 



APPENDIX. 



far less agreeable. There is a difference of some four or five 
degrees at least between the temperature of the town and 
country, which must be borne in mind when choosing a resi- 
dence. The country, being the coldest, is most bracing. Our 
friends in the country generally had fires all the forenoon. 
The thermometer during the three coldest months, December, 
January, and February of this last winter, '66 — 67, has ranged 
between 59° and 70° at noon in the town, according to our 
own observations; the mean height being about 63°.* The 
daily variations of temperature were generally very slight, 
scarcely a couple of degrees. 

Mode of Life. — Although the temperature during the 
winter is, as we have seen, not really high, yet the sun, as in 
all southern countries, is powerful, and exercise is best taken 
early in the day. Our plan was to rise at six, have coffee, &c, 
about seven, and go out at half-past seven for a walk, return- 
ing about ten, sometimes rather later if the morning were 
cloudy. On our return we rested and cooled, and at half-past 
eleven took our dejeuner a la fourchette, which, as the table 
d'hote was at six o'clock, did duty as lunch. Unless we went 
out shopping or visiting among the shady colonnaded streets, 
or drove into the country in a covered carriage, we generally 
remained indoors till four or five in the afternoon. Of course 
circumstances often modified this plan, but we always found 
reason to regret any change. In riding, too, the morning is 
the best, as it is too hot when one starts of an afternoon, and 
often chilly when one returns towards sunset. 

Clothing. — " Demi saison " clothing we found quite suf- 
ficient, viz., what one wears in England during the spring or 

* We were told, however, that the season was rather warmer than 
usual owing to the scanty fall of rain. 



APPENDIX. 



333 



autumn. A warm cloak is useful for expeditions into the 
mountains. Whenever exposed to the sun during the heat of 
the day, the head should be well protected by a good thick 
hat. The French are too apt to neglect this precaution, hence 
fever and headaches, at the very least. People dress quietly in 
the streets of Algiers. 

Supplies. — The meat, of course, is not so good as in England, 
but much better than in most foreign places. Vegetables, good 
and abundant ; also fruit, comprising oranges, plantains, dates, 
grapes, pears, &c. Flowers in profusion. There is a capital 
daily market, to which, if living in the country, one's servant 
comes down by omnibus and carries back the supplies for the 
day. Tea is ruinously dear, but provisions generally are very 
moderate. There is abundance of game also to be had, chiefly 
partridges, hares, and wild boar. 

Shops. — Dearer than in France, but tolerably good. The 
chemists vary most. We found the best to be Desvignes, in 
the Place du Gouvernement. For native articles, the shops 
of Dorez and of Ali are the best ; the former especially for 
jewelry. But the visitor must be cautious both as to choice 
and price, and had better take counsel with some resident. Em- 
broidery, as I have mentioned, is not first-rate as compared 
with Oriental work generally, but still effective enough, 
especially for furniture. It is dear for the quality. The best 
places for it are Madame Luce's and the " Ouvroir Arabe," the 
latter cheaper, but the work less carefully executed. 

Church. — There is Church of England service every Sun- 
day at 11 a.m., temporarily celebrated in an enclosed archway of 
the raised quay. It is hoped that a chapel may ere long be built. 



334 



APPENDIX. 



Post to Europe. — Goes out three times a week — Tuesday, 
Thursday, and Saturday; aud arrives, weather permitting, 
Monday, Thursday, and Saturday. Postage the same as in 
France. 

Flys.— On stand, not very good, but cheap, 2 frs. per hour. 
In fact, when wishing to pay a long visit in the country, 
many prefer the omnibuses. A regular set run every hour from 
the Place du Gouvernement to Mustapha Superieur, which are 
generally filled with people who live in the country, or with 
their friends going out to visit them. Another set of omnibus — 
coricolos, as they are termed — running almost every five 
minutes, are less agreeable, being often full of natives, or the 
" great unwashed." 

Carriages. — From livery stable good. With two horses 
(necessary on account of the hills) they are about 20 francs 
a day, 12 or 15 the half-day ; but if going on a long excur- 
sion a separate arrangement must be made. Taken by the 
month they are 300 francs, coachman included. 

Saddle-horses. — -5 francs a ride, but only a few good ones 
are to be procured. It is better, if riding much, to buy a 
horse, which can be got very cheap, 350 to 500 francs or 
thereabouts, and sell it again on leaving. A lady would find 
it answer to bring her own saddle, especially if intending to 
make any riding expeditions in the interior of the country, as 
although side-saddles can be hired whilst in Algiers, only 
men's saddles are to be found when starting for places in the 
interior. Sometimes an old side-saddle may be bought at 
Algiers, however ; we picked up one for 35 francs, quite good 
enough for the journey. The rides and drives in the neigh- 
bourhood are perfectly beautiful and very numerous. 



APPENDIX. 



335 



Shooting. — Gentlemen can get partridge, snipe, and wild 
boar shooting in the neighbourhood of Algiers ; but if they 
wish for more exciting game, such as lions and panthers, they 
must visit the province of Constantine. Even there it is not 
as plentiful as formerly. 

Guide-books. — Piesse's "Itine'raire," published by Hachette 
(Paris) in the collection of the Guides' Journal, is the only one, 
I believe. Not having been revised since the year 1862, its 
practical information is often useless. The details, however, 
given concerning the places on the routes to the interior are 
very interesting and copious. The part relating to Algiers 
itself is much inferior. 

Amusements. — The theatre is a very fair one, and the com- 
panies generally good. The warm climate improves the 
voices of the singers — makes even an inferior artist worth 
hearing. As one can walk there and back, when living in 
the town, a trifling expense only is incurred. Toilette very 
quiet, gentlemen wearing morning dress. Boxes are the only 
correct places for ladies. 

Society. — The English being few in number (not more than 
fifty or sixty at the very utmost during last winter), English 
society has not got beyond the stage of friendly sociability ; 
hospitality being generally shown by invitations from friends 
in the country to dejeuner a la fourchette, or afternoon tea, 
with a drive or walk afterwards. French society consists of 
card parties and weekly receptions on a fixed afternoon. The 
officials are very kind and hospitable to strangers. They give 
a few great balls, which are well worth seeing from the variety 
of costumes among the military and natives who attend. It 
is necessary, however, to be presented to the Governor-General, 
and others in high position, by the English Consul, if possible, 



336 



APPENDIX. 



or, if not, by a resident. It is very desirable to procure letters 
of introduction, before coming to the country, to the English 
Consul or Yice-Consul. Introductions to any military au- 
thorities are also useful, especially if intending to travel in the 
country ; as one can obtain for them letters to various military 
officials " en route," from whom to gain information or assist- 
ance. 

EXCUKSIONS. 

N.B. — It is necessary to be very particular, not only in 
making a bargain beforehand when hiring a carriage for an 
excursion, but in having the terms of agreement written down, 
and not departing in the slightest degree from the original 
plan so as to leave a loophole for extra charge. The feeding 
of the horses and board and lodging of the coachman ought to 
be included in the prices named below. A " pour boire," of 
course, is bestowed on the coachman if he has given satisfac- 
tion. After the five days' journey to Teniet el-Had and back, 
we gave him 20 francs for a party of five, a donation evidently 
considered rather handsome. 

Of the tw T o trips to Fort Napoleon and Teniet el-Had, w T e 
did the first by carriage from a livery stable, and w T ere over- 
charged ; the second by carriage from the Messageries, and 
were over-reached. The latter can afford to do these excur- 
sions cheaper, as the relays are all ready on the road, their 
own diligences requiring horses. 

We did not go to either Staoueli or Cherchel, the former a 
Trappist convent, the latter an old Eoman city. The excursion 
to Staoueli is the affair of one long day ; that to Cherchel 
requires people to sleep out two nights. 

The Tomb of the Christian, near Kolea, is well worth visit- 
ing. We went to see it from a friend's house in the vicinity, 



APPENDIX. 



337 



so our experience is of no use. It is necessary to sleep out 
one night either at Blidah or Kolea. 

If people do not think of going to Biskra, in the province 
of Constantine, and yet wish to see an oasis, they can go to 
Laghouat, south of Algiers, — a fatiguing trip, however, of 
ten days by diligence. 

The following three excursions among the Atlas Mountains 
are generally considered the most interesting, and are by far 
the finest as regards scenery. 



I. GORGE OF THE CHIFFA. 

Done in one day. Distance there and back about 22 miles, 
exclusive of rail. 

frs. cts. 

Rail to. Blidah and back (no return tickets) 

1st class 9 

* Carriage to and from gorge, ^ _ , K ^ 

, * „ , [20 frs. i carriage 5 

holding lour people J 

Lunch, viz., dejeuner a la fourchette . .2 50 

Per head . 16 50 



N.B. — I have supposed people making up a party of at 
least four ; sometimes five can go in one carriage, as in our 
trip to Teniet el-Had, for when sleeping out a few nights 
very little luggage is needed, and on all these excursions the 
carriage is the chief expense, and comes very heavy upon 
only one or two people. Write to Blidah and order carriage 
to meet train. 

* There is an inn at the lt Ruisseau des Singes" in the gorge where 
people breakfast ; but they ought to drive on two or three miles to the 
bridge of the Oued-Merdja, where the finest part of the scenery ends. 

Z 



338 



APPENDIX. 



II. FOKT NAPOLEON. 



Three days' excursion. Distance there and back 156 miles. 
Expenses : — 



horses and a relay | 

Dejeuners a la fourchette at the ^ 

Col of Beni Ayesha going and Iperhead 7 

returning . . . .J 

Ditto at Fort Napoleon . . . . 2 50 
Two nights, two dinners, two breakfasts, at 

hotel at Tizi-Ouzou . . . . 15 



If making the excursion in three days, as we did, one 
sleeps at Tizi-Ouzou both nights, driving up to the fort the 
second day, and returning to sleep at Tizi-Ouzou, the third 
day driving back to Algiers ; but if people take four days, 
which will cost more for the carriage, they can sleep the 
first night at Tizi-Ouzou, the second at the fort, make an 
excursion on mules, and return to Tizi-Ouzou the same day, 
sleeping there the third night. The fourth day drive back 
to Algiers. 

For single individuals, or even two people, it is more 
economical, and nearly as pleasant, to take the morning 
diligence from Algiers to Tizi-Ouzou ; sleep there, and ride on 
mule or horseback up to the fort and back next day, the 
seventeen miles of carriage road being much shortened by 
paths leading through the heart of the Kabyle villages by a 
much more picturesque route. 



frs. cts. 



Carriage with three 




Per head 



. 87 



APPENDIX. 



339 



CEDAR FOREST OF TENIET EL-HAD. 

Five days' excursion. Distance, there and back, 178 miles, 
exclusive of rail. 

frs. cts. 

Rail to Blidah and back . . . .90 



horses and relays . I 

Horse per day, from Teniet to Cedar Forest 5 

Lunch, five days 12 50 

Hotels, five days, at 7 frs. 50 c. per day . 37 50 



It does not answer to do this trip by diligence, as it starts 
from Blidah late in the afternoon, passing through the best 
part of the scenery by night, and it only goes as far as 
Milianah, where it is often difficult to procure either carriage 
or riding horses to take one on to Teniet, a distance of forty- 
five miles. I have heard of people going by diligence from 
Blidah to Boukika, at the foot of the Atlas, sleeping there 
with rather rough accommodation,' and having sent their own 
horses to meet them, riding from thence to Teniet in three 
days, sleeping at Milianah and the caravanserai of Anseur 
el-Louza on the way. 

These excursions, it will be seen, are very much more ex- 
pensive in proportion than actual travelling through the 
country. 




Per head . 164 



JOURNEY IN THE INTERIOR. 



It will depend greatly on the route by which the traveller 
returns to Europe whether he visits the province of Oran, 



34° 



APPENDIX. 



or of Constantine, or, if wishing to see both, in what suc- 
cession he takes them. If intending to return north by 
Spain, of course Oran lies on the road ; but if he only thinks 
of visiting one province, and has his choice free, I should 
recommend Constantine. The wonderful old Moorish town 
of Tlemcen is the great attraction of the province of Oran ; 
but after mature deliberation, and hearing full particulars, 
we determined in favour of Constantine, as affording more 
objects of interest, more beauty of scenery, and a more agree- 
able climate. It is not advisable to start on any of these 
distant expeditions till the middle or end of March, as the 
high regions through which one passes are very cold, even 
early in April. We had snow at Batna. But the state of 
the weather must decide the point. Algiers generally has a 
rainy season in November, and another in March. If the 
latter falls late it is well to wait till it is over ; a fortnight or 
thereabouts will bring the fine weather back. 



HOTELS. 

Those in the province of Constantine, and indeed in the 
interior of Algeria generally, are most dirty and uninviting 
in appearance. The beds, however, are always surprisingly 
clean. Food very fair, perhaps rather too highly flavoured 
for English taste, the Cuisine Provencale prevailing. Wine 
very moderate in price, a good sound description of Yin du 
Midi. The hotels, or rather inns, in the list below marked 
with an asterisk are brilliant exceptions as to cleanliness and 
neatness. It is better always to write beforehand to secure 
rooms, especially at small places like Biskra, where the accom- 
modation is very limited. The average expense for bed and 



Philippeville 
Constantine 
Batua . 
Biskra . 
Jemappes 
Bone 
Guelma . 



APPENDIX. 



34i 



three meals per day per head, including service, lights, and 
common wine, is about nine francs. 

. Hotel d'Orient. 

. Hotel d'Orient, Hotel des Colonies. 

. Hotel des Colonies. 

. *H6tel du Sahara. 

. *H6tel d'Orient. 

. Hotel d'Orient. 

. *H6tel d'Urriel. 



The journey through the province of Constantine, visiting 
the principal places of interest, can he performed in about 
three weeks from the day of leaving Algiers. If travellers 
are not hurried, a stay of a few days at Biskra is advisable, 
provided the weather be not too hot. The diligences for 
Biskra are so arranged that people must either spend four 
days there or only one. The diligences generally have a 
night and day service, the latter only about four times a 
week. The diligence to Batna, however, has only a night 
service, that to Biskra only a day service. Every arrange- 
ment alters so continually that it is better to write and find 
out all the particulars from the different bureaux before 
leaving Algiers, so as to be able to form a plan, otherwise 
much time will be lost, and the traveller will be detained 
where there is nothing to see, and hurried through places of 
interest, as was sometimes our fate. The coupe is almost the 
only place bearable. It often holds only two, therefore it is 
well not to travel in large parties. A third person, if a gentle- 
man, can go on the banquette when there is one, which is 
not always the case. 



342 



APPENDIX. 



TRAVELLING EXPENSES (per head). 

Length of Time. Price. 
Hours. Frs. 

Steamer from Algiers to Stora, the port 
of Philippeville, including many hours' 
anchorage in intervening ports . .41 ..80 
Diligence from Philippeville to Con- 

stantine (coupe) .... 104 •• 12 
Diligence from Constantine to Batna 

(coupe) . . . . . 12% .. 18 
Omnibus to and from Lambessa . . — . . 3 
Diligence from Batna to Biskra (coupe) 14 . . 20 
Diligence from Biskra to Batna . .15 ..20 
Diligence from Batna to Constantine . 12i .. 18 
Diligence from Constantine to Philippe- 
ville 10J 12 

Diligence from Philippeville to Bone* .11 ..15 
Diligence from Bone to Guelma . . .7 . . 7 
Carriage from Guelma to and from Ham- 
mam Meskouten . . . . — ..25 
Diligence from Guelma to Bone . . 7 . . 7 
Steamer from Bone to Philippeville 
(Stora) 6 .. 16 



Per head . — 253 frs. 



* If unable to arrange for day diligences from Philippeville to Bone, 
take a carriage to Jemappes, price 25 francs, driver included; and 
having secured places, continue by diligence from thence. Probably 
this year the cross road from Jemappes to Guelma is finished ; if so, the 
traveller can get on by it without going round by Bone, which he can 
visit on leaving Guelma. 



APPENDIX. 



343 



The steamer from Philippeville to Marseilles, taking about 
42 hours, is 89 francs, rather less than the fare from Algiers 
to Marseilles ; of course this must not be counted in the 
expenses of the trip through Constantine. It is possible to do 
as we did, and take tickets from Algiers to Marseilles, via 
Philippeville* — arranging at the Bureau of the Messageries, at 
Algiers, to have the heavy luggage sent, free of charge, straight 
from thence to Marseilles to await arrival in the Messageries' 
warehouses, as very little is needed on the Constantine tour ; 
the less the better. 

When the weather is fine, the Constantine excursion can be 
agreeably varied, thus : 

Steamer to Bougie, arriving the following morning at daybreak. 

From Bougie ride, in two long or three short days, to Setif, 
through beautiful mountainous country; sleeping at cara- 
vanserais, where there are always one or two decent rooms 
with beds, which, if no officer needs, travellers can obtain* 
Ladies, indeed, would generally get them given up to them 
under any circumstances. 

Diligence from Setif to Constantine. Again after visit to 
Biskra, ride from Constantine to Hammam Meskoutin across 
the mountains, in two days, sleeping one night at El Haria. 
From Hammam Meskoutin ride on to Guelma, about 12 miles, 
where one comes again upon high road and diligence. If taking 
this route, the traveller ought not to return to meet the 
Marseilles steamer by sea, but go by land from B6ne to 
Philippeville in order to see the country. 

Horses generally 5 francs per day. 

When at Bone it is worth while making an excursion by 
steamer to Tunis and back, remaining there a day or two. 

* The Compagnie des Messageries Imperiales has within the last 
two or three years extended its service both eastwards and westwards 
along the coast, touching at all the ports. 



LONDON: 

PRINTED BY "WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, STAMFORD STREET 
AND CHARING CROSS. 



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